


halcyon

by glittermerm



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Fallen Angels, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 03:31:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15039755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glittermerm/pseuds/glittermerm
Summary: “The Devil is real. And he’s not a little red man with horns and a tail. He can be beautiful. Cause he’s a fallen angel, and he used to be God’s favorite.”A Fallen Angel AU





	1. Prologue

The music cuts off as the door shuts with a loud thump. Junhoe leans against the alley wall. He can see his breath in the chilly November air. The building shakes with the power of the bass pumping through the club as he lights a cigarette. He brings it to his lips, breathing in, the acrid taste burning through his lungs. 

He lets the smoke soothe his frazzled lungs as he stares at the wall opposite him. It’s been too quiet lately, he wonders if God has finally abandoned him. He almost pulls his wings out to check their color, but he doesn’t. He hears falling hurts, and so far he feels nothing. 

He feels a presence next to himself before he sees the other figure. Jiwon reaches out and grabs the cigarette from his hand, crushing it under his foot. Junhoe scowls. 

“Smoking is bad for you,” Jiwon chides. 

“I’m immortal, I think I’ll survive,” Junhoe counters, tone dead. 

“Still,” Jiwon says, crowding into Junhoe’s space. “It sets a bad example, an angel smoking and all. What would your charge think?” He looks around for a moment. “Where is your charge?” he asks. 

“Don’t have one, and you know that,” Junhoe says, lighting another cigarette and blowing the smoke in Jiwon’s face. Jiwon coughs. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Jiwon smiles, a predatory grin. “I should ask you the same thing. What’s God’s best boy doing at a seedy nightclub, I wonder,” he muses, barely stumbling when Junhoe pushes him out of his space. “I can’t imagine you’re here to sin,” he says, leaning against the wall. “Doesn’t seem your thing.”

“Be quiet, Jiwon,” Junhoe snaps, hissing as the cigarette burns his fingers. He drops it, watching the last embers flicker and die on the asphalt. His hands curl into fists, and he reminds himself that letting Jiwon under his skin is what got him in this situation in the first place. 

Jiwon seems to read his mind. He leans his chin on Junhoe’s shoulder, bone digging into bone. “Touchy subject?”

Junhoe loses what’s left of his composure. He turns, shoving Jiwon. Jiwon bounces back on the ball of his feet, laugh bubbling out of his throat. Junhoe shoves him again and Jiwon laughs harder. 

“Something wrong June?” he asks, and the next moment Junhoe’s fist is slamming into his cheek. He grunts and stumbles, but doesn’t fight back. He takes it as Junhoe hits him again and again, even when he falls and Junhoe follows him. 

A loud crack of thunder startles Junhoe and he jumps back, hands hanging listlessly at his sides, Jiwon’s blood on his knuckles. 

Jiwon tongues at his busted lip. “Guess daddy doesn’t approve of fighting,” he laughs, climbing to his feet. 

“Shut your mouth or,” Junhoe starts, stepping closer. 

“Or what?” Jiwon asks. “You’re on a leash, Junhoe, and you’ve been given orders, and you’re too weak not to obey.” He steps into Junhoe’s space and jabs him in the chest with a finger. Junhoe steps back, wanting space, feeling cornered and trapped in the alley. 

“I won’t be like you,” Junhoe spits. “I know what you’re trying to do, and I won’t do it, not again. I won’t fall, not like you.”

Jiwon smiles again, this one genuine. “Oh June,” he laughs softly. “Falling is only half the fun.” He turns, walking away. He stops only when he reaches the end of the alley. He turns back, casting a searching look at Junhoe. 

“You know where to find me when you’re ready.” Jiwon throws a peace sign, and Junhoe blinks and he’s gone. 

He collapses back against the wall, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. 

“Oh, God,” he whispers. “Have you really forsaken me?


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Some Angels fall, some Mortals Fly”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings in the bottoms notes.

Junhoe wakes early the next morning, heart beating overtime in his chest. The apartment has an air of a room just vacated. He jumps out of bed, rushing through the apartment though he knows it’s useless. If He has wanted to be seen, Junhoe would have seen him. He retraces his steps, looking for the evidence. He finds it sitting on his bedside table. A plain piece of paper with a name and an address on it. 

He grabs it and collapses to his knees, clutching it to his chest. “Thank you, thank you,” he whispers over again, near tears. He hasn’t been forsaken. He doubts he’s been forgiven, but the road to redemption lays ahead of him now, shining and gold. 

He looks at the paper finally. And it starts with Jung Chanwoo. 

He sits at the kitchen table awhile later, breakfast cold and half eaten. He scrolls through Naver, looking for information. There’s next to nothing. Jung Chanwoo, a sophomore in high school. That’s all it gives him. He sighs and pushes the laptop away. He doesn’t know why he expected it to be easy. 

He clears his dishes and gets dressed. It’s early enough in the day that school should just be starting. He decides he’ll start there and do some snooping around. 

He wraps his coat closer around himself as he walks. He lets himself blend into the crowd, willing no one to see him, even though he stands six feet tall and has blinding blonde hair. There are perks to being an powerful immortal. 

The school is a distance away, but Junhoe enjoys the walk despite the sharp late autumn air. It threatens to snow, and he finds himself looking forward to it, the first fall of the year. Winter has always been his favorite season. It’s thought of as the season of death, but he looks at it as the season of new chances, of the death of mistakes. 

The school is small, and the front grounds are empty when he arrives. The gates are closed, and locked when he pushes on them. He blinks and he’s on the other side. Willing himself invisible, he walks across the grounds, and slips inside the school. He reaches out with his senses and finds who he’s looking for. A soft heartbeat echoes in his ears, growing louder with each step. 

He slips inside the classroom, looking around. No one notices him and he slips past the teacher to sit on the windowsill. Half of the students are in various states of falling asleep as the teacher drones on about feudal Korean history. He takes each student in, finally finding who he’s looking for. 

Chanwoo is sitting in the back row. He’s tall, probably as tall as Junhoe himself. It’s hard to tell from the way the teen is hunched over in his chair, trying to shrink himself. He’s the only student actively paying attention to the teacher, furiously taking notes. He pauses occasionally to push his oversized glasses up his face. 

Junhoe takes him in, wondering what’s wrong enough in this kid’s life that he requires divine intervention. He makes himself comfortable and decides to watch awhile longer. Almost as if he knows he’s being watched, Chanwoo shrinks further, ears practically dipping below his shoulders. 

By the end of the day Junhoe has no answers and a sore ass from sitting on the hard ledge of the window. Chanwoo is a loner, with no friends, but that’s hardly the worst thing he’s ever seen. He’s not actively bullied but no one talks to him either. He eats lunch by himself, and spends his free period studying. 

But there’s something haunted in his eyes that Junhoe can’t ignore. He’s tired and wants to go home, but he’s determined to do his job right and decides to follow Chanwoo home. He trails behind Chanwoo as he walks, not straying too close. Chanwoo seems to deflate the closer he gets to home and Junhoe knows he’s about to find out his tragic backstory. 

Chanwoo unlocks his front door, and Junhoe scoots in before the door swings shut. Chanwoo toes off his shoes and carefully lines them up. 

“I’m home,” he calls quietly into the house, and Junhoe realizes it’s the first time he’s heard the boy speak. No one answers him. He tiptoes through the house, up the stairs and into what Junhoe assumes is his room. There’s no posters on the wall, no memorabilia, nothing that makes Junhoe assume a teenage boy lives here. 

The room is a mess, and from the dejected look on Chanwoo’s face, it’s not his fault. He drops to his knees, slowly gathering up the papers scattered around the room. He sits on the floor, trying to put them back in whatever order they had been in. 

Junhoe watches as Chanwoo’s spine stiffens as the front door opens and shuts. He climbs to his feet quickly, and seems torn between going downstairs and staying exactly where he is. A chill runs down Junhoe’s spine when he realizes exactly where this is going. 

“Chanwoo,” a woman’s voice calls from downstairs and Chanwoo freezes, and Junhoe can see the fear in his eyes. 

“I’m here, mom,” he calls back. 

“Can you come down here please,” she asks and Junhoe can hear the acid behind her sweet tone. 

“I’m coming,” Chanwoo answers. It takes him a moment to actually start moving and Junhoe can see him summoning his courage. 

Junhoe follows him down the stairs. Chanwoo’s mother is petite and seems unintimidating at a first glance. She’s already taken off her shoes and hung up her keys and is waiting at the base of the stairs. She looks up as her son descends the stairs, looking like he’s walking to his own funeral. 

She embraces him in a hug lacking any warmth, and he reluctantly wraps his arms around her. Her nails dig into his arm through his sweater. “Sweetie, I thought I asked you to have dinner done by the time I got home?” she says, danger lacing her tone. 

Junhoe wants to stop this but he knows he can’t, not yet. 

“I’m sorry mom,” he says, voice pleading. “Our study class went longer than usual and I just got home.”

“Chanwoo,” she chides him. “You know how I feel about excuses. Belt off.”

“Mom please, I can make it right now, it won’t take long at all. Please,” he tries, desperately. 

“The longer it takes you to listen to me, the worse it’ll be. You know this.” Any warmth is long gone from her voice. 

Hands shaking, Chanwoo undoes his belt. He slides it slowly out of the loops, eyes on the ground as he hands it over to his mother. 

“Shirt,” she says, and Junhoe gasps as Chanwoo pulls it over his head. He’d been expecting something bad, but with the way Chanwoo held himself, he never would have thought. 

Chanwoo’s body is a lattice of bruises and welts, conveniently ending where sweaters would show off skin. Junhoe thinks Chanwoo has had a lot of practice at holding himself like he’s not in pain. He takes a step forward, wanting to do something, anything to ease his suffering. 

Chanwoo turns, brow furrowing as he braces himself on the stairwell. The belt whistles through the air and lands with a sharp crack. Chanwoo gasps, but makes no other noise and it breaks Junhoe’s heart. 

Junhoe forces himself to watch the whole thing, bile rising in throat. The woman doesn’t stop until Chanwoo is curled on the floor, sobbing. Junhoe kneels down, gently resting his hand on Chanwoo’s head. He doesn’t notice.

“I’m going to save you,” he whispers. 

“Get up, Chanwoo,” his mother says, coldly. “You still have to cook dinner.”

“Y-yes mother,” Chanwoo answers, voice breaking on a sob. 

“Be happy it wasn’t the freezer,” she says. When Chanwoo doesn’t answer she nudges him with her foot. “What do you say, Chanwoo?”

“Thank you, mother,” he whispers, and Junhoe balls his fists, angry enough that he wants to hit this woman. Make her feel every ounce of pain she’s ever made her son feel. 

He quietly helps Chanwoo stand, letting him think he caught himself on the stairwell when he stumbles. His mother disappears into another room humming, and Chanwoo drags himself into the kitchen. He moves slow and Junhoe can see the pain in his face. 

He stays for the rest of the evening, keeping watch over his charge. Chanwoo’s mother doesn’t do anything else, barely so much as glancing at him as she takes a plate of food and leaves the room. Chanwoo cleans up, and spends the rest of the night doing his homework. 

Junhoe watches as he crawls into bed, only pulling the covers up to his waist. He lays on his stomach and lets himself cry until he’s too exhausted to keep his eyes open, and falls into a fitful sleep. 

Junhoe sits on the bed next to him, mind whirring. He has to save this boy. Not just because he’s been told to, but because no one deserves to live like this. He places his hands lightly on Chanwoo’s back, causing the boy to squirm in his sleep. He wills healing through him. Chanwoo settles into a proper sleep as the pain drains from him. 

Junhoe leaves the marks, no sense in working miracles. Reluctantly he stands and turns to leave. He casts a look back at the sleeping boy before blinking and appearing in his apartment. 

Emotionally drained, he throws himself face down in his bed. 

He’s going to save Jung Chanwoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Graphic child abuse, Chanwoo is beaten with a belt


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world is full of monsters with friendly faces, and angels with scars.

Junhoe doesn’t sleep well. His dreams are plagued with images of Chanwoo, of the look on his face when he realized what was coming, of him crumpled on the floor, of that woman not caring that she was hurting her flesh and blood. 

He gives up trying to sleep around 4. He climbs out of bed and heads to the balcony of his apartment. It’s snowing but he takes no pleasure in it. He ignores the burning cold against his bare feet as he shuffles out farther. He lights a cigarette and leans against the banister. 

He has half formulated ideas of how to help Chanwoo, but he’s having trouble deciding how to get him away from his mother. It’s been a long time since he did this. Years since he’s been trusted enough to carry out one of His missions, and he’s rusty. 

He lets the cigarette burn down, never even taking a drag of it. He stubs it out on the bannister and turns to go back inside, only to sigh when he sees Jiwon sitting at the kitchen table. He stomps back inside. 

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he snaps. 

Jiwon shrugs, propping his feet up on another chair. “It’s hardly the first time I’ve been here, Junhoe,” he says, like Junhoe’s a child, needing simple concepts explained to him. 

Junhoe scowls. “You’re not supposed to be here without permission and I don’t recall asking you over.”

Jiwon smiles. “Ah but you see, the last time I left you didn’t tell me not to come back, so the permission is implied,” he wiggles his fingers, beckoning Junhoe closer. Junhoe merely crosses his arms. 

“I distinctly recall telling you to get the hell out of my apartment,” he says, not moving even though the cold wind is blowing against his back. 

“But you didn’t say ‘and never come back’” he retorts, a self satisfied smirk on his face. “Now come, sit, talk.”

Junhoe sighs but closes the balcony door, and moves into the apartment, sitting opposite of Jiwon. He scowls at him and Jiwon smiles back brightly. If he didn’t know Jiwon was the king of Hell, he’d be easily fooled by that smile. He had been fooled by that smile. 

“What do you want Jiwon?” he asks, voice acid. He’s tired and irritable and he has to save a teenage boy’s life, and he knows Jiwon is here to make his life more difficult. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Jiwon asks, eyes roaming over Junhoe. “You look like shit.”

Junhoe’s forehead furrows. “Get to the point.”

Jiwon rolls his eyes. “The art of conversation is lost on you good boys.”

“The point,” Junhoe reminds him. 

“Ah yes,” Jiwon says, locking his fingers together, index fingers resting under his chin. “I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’ve got yourself a new charge.”

And there it is. Junhoe feels himself growing suspicious and protective of Chanwoo. If he has to protect him from Jiwon too, he will. 

“And if I do?” he asks, bristling. 

“Good for you,” Jiwon says in a bored voice, tipping the chair back and propping his feet up on the table. “Good job getting back in The Man’s graces and all that. I wonder if he’ll turn those feathers back,” he muses with a chuckle. 

Junhoe clenches his fist, his wings ruffling in their non corporeal form. He tries not to think of the handprint shaped patch of black feathers on his otherwise pristine white wings. 

Sudden exhaustion overwhelms him. “Go home Jiwon, I’ve got things to do.”

Jiwon, apparently satisfied with whatever answers he’d gotten, kicks off the chair, letting it scrape back against the linoleum. 

He leans across the table so he’s in Junhoe’s face. “I’ll be watching you,” he says and his tone is sensual. 

“Don’t.” Junhoe shudders. Their faces are dangerously close and Junhoe has a bad track record with temptation. 

“I’ll be back,” Jiwon says, disappearing in a cloud of sulfur smoke. Dramatic as always. 

Junhoe can’t bring himself to ban Jiwon permanently. 

He crawls back in his bed and falls back into a fitful sleep, dreaming of belts and blood and hands that burn him when they touch. 

The light shining through his window wakes him a few hours later. He’s got a headache in his temple and it’s throbbing rapidly. He sighs and climbs out from under the covers, shivering in the morning chill. 

It’s a Saturday and that means no school for Chanwoo. He’s anxious to see how the kid spends his weekend. He doesn’t know if he can stop himself from intervening if his mother goes after him again, though. 

He dresses quickly and after a quick breakfast, pops over to Chanwoo’s. The kid is still asleep, curled up and looking at peace. Junhoe gets the feeling he doesn’t usually look like that and is glad he eased Chanwoo’s pain the night before. 

He pops back home and thinks as he cleans. A plan starts to form in his head. It’s half baked and has no clear exit strategy but it’s something. 

He heads over to the school, making sure no one is around before stealing into the main office. He sits and spins the chair back and forth as he waits for the computer to boot up. Once it’s up it’s easy enough to add himself in as a new student. He chews on his thumbnail as he types in all his information. He wonders how much he’s going to regret this come Monday. 

And Monday comes, cold and bleak. The temperature dropped overnight, and snow blankets the ground. Every step he takes crunches. He mills over the last two days as he walks. Chanwoo hadn’t left the house, kept under the watchful eye of his mother. He’d cleaned the house from top to bottom, and cooked all the meals. He’d spent the rest of the time holed up in his room, alternating between playing video games and doing his homework. Junhoe was thankful Chanwoo’s mother hadn’t laid hands on him again. 

Junhoe has spent the rest of the weekend standing in front of his mirror, tweaking his features to look more like a teenager. It’d been a long while since he’d had reason to use that face. He found in general, looking like an adult got you farther. As he had stared into the mirror, he’d seen a sudden flash of his true self and shuddered. It had been even longer since he’d had that many eyes staring back at him. 

The school yard finally comes into view. This time it’s filled with teenagers. Junhoe watches them in silence. There’s a group of boys throwing snowballs at a group of shrieking girls. They’re all laughing and having fun so Junhoe doesn’t intervene, remembers it’s not his place to intervene when he looks like this. 

He hitches up his backpack up and looks around for Chanwoo. He’s nowhere to be found. Junhoe frowns and finds a vantage point where he can see the whole yard without being seen. Chanwoo definitely isn’t here yet. 

Soon the bell rings, and students file into the building. Junhoe follows them, getting bumped and jostled by the crowd. It’s an unfamiliar sensation, and not one he particularly enjoys. He slides into the classroom, trying his best to remain unnoticed without going invisible. He feels vulnerable and unsettled. He can feel eyes on him and the stares crawl down his back. 

Finally, Chanwoo appears in the doorway. He’s limping and drags himself to his seat and drops into it. No one acknowledges him and Junhoe frowns before throwing himself into the seat next to Chanwoo. Might as well get started. 

“Hi,” Junhoe says, and Chanwoo looks up, perplexed. “I’m Junhoe, I’m new here,” he continues, holding out his hand. 

Chanwoo just stares at him for a moment before taking his hand. He’s clearly unused to social interaction. “I’m, uhhh, Chanwoo,” he says finally, dropping Junhoe’s hand. 

“Cool!” Junhoe says, and finds he really doesn’t have to pretend to be interested. He’s growing attached to the kid already. He’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not. “Would you mind showing me around the school later?” he asks, and mentally kicks himself a second later when he remembers Chanwoo’s limp. 

Chanwoo seems unphased though, happy to have positive attention. “Definitely. Did you want to eat lunch together, and then I can show you around during our free period?” he asks. 

Junhoe smiles. “That sounds good to me,” he answers. He’s stopped from continuing by the teacher bringing the class to a start. She forces him to stand up and introduce himself, which he was not prepared for. He’s decided he already hates being a mortal. 

Class is boring. He’s an ageless immortal - he’s lived through everything that’s being taught. He puts his chin down on his arm on the desk, listening to the teacher drone on. He looks over to see Chanwoo diligently taking notes. It’s kind of adorable. He already knows Chanwoo is a smart kid. He had looked him up in the computer and he was at the top of the class. He probably didn’t need to study at all. But if Junhoe had a mother like Chanwoo’s he would probably throw himself into something too. 

The day goes well, overall. He’s able to drag a smile out of Chanwoo and he considers it all a success. They eat their lunch in the corner of the cafeteria, undisturbed by anyone else. Chanwoo chews his ear off about video games Junhoe knows nothing about, and Junhoe is content to sit there and nod at the important points. 

Chanwoo doesn’t press him for personal information, which Junhoe is thankful for. He imagines Chanwoo doesn’t want to be pressed either so he doesn’t. 

Chanwoo shows him around the school. It’s a pretty small building and it doesn’t take long. They spend the rest of their free time talking. Chanwoo lights up when he talks, and it saddens Junhoe to think no one gives this poor kid the time of day. He’s a good kid, smart and kind. Junhoe feels protective of him like he’s a little brother. 

The rest of the day goes by much quicker. Chanwoo is already opening up, and when Junhoe catches his eye in the middle of lecture, Chanwoo grins at him, and he grins back. 

By the time he leaves, he thinks he may have a fighting chance at saving Chanwoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until next week my loves!


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It was a brief flicker of light amon an ocean of darkness”

“Do you want to come to my place tonight?” Junhoe asks. He and Chanwoo are sitting tucked under the second floor staircase. It’s the warmest place in the building, a furnace also carefully placed there. It keeps them warm and hidden from outside eyes. 

Junhoe’s been going to school for a month now, and he and Chanwoo have become fast friends. Chanwoo has shown Junhoe his hiding spot after only a week and now they spend their free periods holed up, talking and studying. Chanwoo studies, anyway. Junhoe doodles stupid pictures in his notebook. He’s careful to do just good enough on their assignments to not catch their teacher’s attention but not well enough to cause suspicion. He never studies and tends to sleep through class. If anyone asks he’ll claim Chanwoo tutors him. 

Since becoming closer with Chanwoo, other classmates have started noticing Chanwoo’s existence. A boy named Hanbin in particular has started to inch towards them by the day, taking to at least greeting them in the morning. Junhoe wonders if Hanbin is as shy as Chanwoo is. He makes a mental note to drag Hanbin into their conversation later. 

“You know I can’t,” Chanwoo answers with a sigh. 

“I still don’t understand why,” Junhoe says, twirling his pen through his fingers. He fully understands why, had watched Chanwoo’s mother slap him across the face just the night before. 

“My mom is just really protective,” Chanwoo says, and Junhoe almost snorts. “She doesn’t like me going out places.”

“Well, I figured that out already,” Junhoe replies. “I just don’t understand why.”

“It’s just how she is,” Chanwoo says with a note of finality in his tone. 

Junhoe huffs out a frustrated sigh. He still hasn’t found a way to help Chanwoo and he’s starting to feel like he’s running on borrowed time. 

They sit in silence for awhile before Chanwoo nudges him with his knee. 

“You’re not mad at me are you?” he asks and Junhoe hates the slightest hint of fear he can detect in Chanwoo’s voice. So he smiles and throws his arm around the boy’s shoulders, pulling him in for a side hug. 

“How could I ever be mad at you?” he asks, and it’s true. Chanwoo relaxes into his side and they spend the rest of their free period like that, side to side and hidden from the world. 

 

When they head back to class, Junhoe snags Hanbin by the arm. The boy looks at him in confusion, and gives him a dazzling smile. 

“Hanbin, wanna sit with us at lunch tomorrow?” Junhoe asks. Chanwoo stares at him eyes wide. 

Hanbin looks confused for a moment before slowly nodding. He smiles back at Junhoe, and turns to give Chanwoo a smile too. 

“Although,” Hanbin starts and Junhoe’s face falls as he struggles to keep his smile in place. “Why don’t you both just come sit at our table? We’ve been meaning to ask you for awhile. I just didn’t know how you would feel about it,” he says. 

Hanbin looks at Junhoe who looks at Chanwoo. 

“What do you think, Chanwoo?” Junhoe asks. It takes Chanwoo a moment but he smiles and nods. 

“Sounds great to me!” he says seeming genuinely happy, but there’s something off about his expression. 

Junhoe drags him back to their desks and turns to him as they both drop back into their seats. 

“What’s wrong?” Junhoe asks. 

“Nothing?” is Chanwoo’s answer, but Junhoe doesn’t believe him. He kicks Chanwoo lightly. 

“Come on, tell me,” he prods. 

Chanwoo sighs. “No one talked to me until you did. They’re not interested in me, not really. They just want to be friends with you and get stuck with me because we’re a package deal.”

Junhoe shakes his head. “You’re right about one thing. We’re a package deal. Where you go, I’ll go. But you don’t see yourself the way I do, Chanwoo,” Junhoe says empathetically. “When I first got here you were an impenetrable shell. I only got close to you because I made you open up. But you have opened up and other people can see that now. You’re a likeable guy, don’t doubt yourself.” He nudges Chanwoo with his foot again. “I mean it.”

Chanwoo smiles at him, even though he doesn’t look convinced. “Thanks, Junhoe,” he says. 

The rest of the day passes quickly, Junhoe spends it napping and getting yelled at for it. When the final bell rings they pack up and head out of the class. 

“Let me walk you home,” Junhoe says when they reach the school gates. 

“Why?” Chanwoo asks, confused. 

Junhoe shrugs. “It’s on my way anyway. Besides,I’ve never seen where you live.”

Chanwoo looks uncertain, but nods after a second. “Okay, but my mom is really strict so you can’t come in,” he says. 

“Sounds good,” Junhoe agrees easily. “Have I mentioned your mom is weird?”

That draws a laugh out of the other boy. “Only every day.”

“Good,” Junhoe replies with his own laugh. 

They chat as they walk, bumping into each other and laughing. At one point Junhoe threatens to shove Chanwoo into a snowbank, and the other shrieks, fighting back. They end up soaked, handfuls of snow down the back of their jackets, cheeks rosy and pink. For a moment they’re just two teenage boys.

Chanwoo’s house comes into view, and they wave goodbye. Junhoe waits until Chanwoo is in the house before going invisible and popping inside. 

Chanwoo’s mother is standing in the entranceway, hands on her hips, as she takes in the mess of her son. He’s soaked to the bone and shivering, but a sliver of happiness remains despite the fearful look on his face. 

“What happened to you?” she demands. “Who is that boy?”

Chanwoo takes his time, taking off his shoes, and lining them up nicely. 

“He’s just a classmate,” Chanwoo says carefully. He sheds his wet coat, hanging it up. “We had a snowball fight on the way home, that’s all.” He shivers again and his mother relents just enough to let him step into the warmth of the house. 

“What have you told him?” she asks, stepping closer to him, and Chanwoo shrinks, despite being a full foot taller than her. 

“Nothing, Mom, he’s just a classmate that’s all. We’re not even that close,” he defends, hands in the air. 

His mom grabs his collar, pulling him down to her height. She stares him in the eye, and he flinches.

“If I find out you’ve told him anything, I will lock you in that freezer and never let you out again, do you understand me?” she threatens. 

Chanwoo pales. “Yes, mom,” he answers, voice a whisper. 

She lets go of him and he straightens up. She brushes melting snow off his sweater, in an uncharacteristic motherly fashion. She turns and walks away from him, heading towards the living room. 

“Let me know when dinner is done,” she calls over her shoulder. “Oh, and Chanwoo?”

“Yes, mom?” he gulps. 

“If your grades slip because of this boy, you will be punished, understand?” she asks. 

“I understand,” he says, not trying to hide the full body shudder that runs through him. He’s not sure if it’s from his wet sweater or the threats. 

Junhoe clenches his fists during the exchange, angry on Chanwoo’s behalf. He hope he never finds out if she’s being literal about the freezer. Because if she is, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stand by and watch. 

He already knows he would break any and all rules for Chanwoo. 

He sticks around long enough to make sure Chanwoo is safe before heading home, choosing to walk instead of using his powers. He enjoys the crispness of the air, the burn of the cold in his lungs. It’s a nice chance to decompress from the heavy atmosphere of Chanwoo’s life. 

The serenity is shattered when he walks through the front door of his apartment. Jiwon is sitting on the couch this time, feet propped up on the dining room table. Junhoe sighs and takes a moment to take him in, from the too tight pants, to the curly brown hair, and his eye smile when he sees Junhoe. 

“I’m too tired to fight with you today, Jiwon, go away,” he sighs, kicking off his shoes. 

“When are you going to realize you’re the only one fighting?” Jiwon asks, gesturing with the remote as he talks and flips through the channels at the same time.

Junhoe ignores him and walks towards the kitchen, frowning when he enters to find Jiwon sitting on the counter, swinging his legs.

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere doing something evil?” Junhoe asks irritably, grabbing a bag of chips out of the cabinet. Jiwon snatches it from him, and Junhoe just grabs another rather than give Jiwon the satisfaction of getting under his skin. 

Jiwon cocks his head. “What exactly is it you think I do with my time?” he asks, munching on a chip. 

“Besides bother me?” Junhoe asks, opening his own bag. “Dunno, burn people alive for eternity?”

Jiwon laughs at that, his face crinkling up. “Hell isn't the most fun place to be but it’s not as bad as everyone thinks. It’s not eternal damnation. Same way as God isn't really listening to your prayers.”

Junhoe looks at him and he shrugs. “It’s true. Big guy has better shit to do than listen to mortals beg for cars and jobs.”

Junhoe sighs and finishes his chips in silence, ruminating on Jiwon’s words. 

“What did you want?” Junhoe asks finally. 

“Hmm?” Jiwon hums, still munching his way through his chips. 

“You obviously wanted something if you’re here,” Junhoe says, brushing his hands off on his pants and jumping up on the counter, next to Jiwon but not close enough to touch. 

“How’s things going with the charge?” Jiwon asks, turning to look at Junhoe. 

Junhoe just sighs. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Jiwon asks. 

“How much do you already know?” Junhoe asks. 

“The basics. I follow you around when I get bored,” Jiwon says with a casual shrug. 

Junhoe glares at him. “Cause that’s not creepy at all.”

Jiwon shrugs again. 

“I don’t know how to get him away from that woman,” Junhoe admits finally. 

“I could kill her,” Jiwon offers, and Junhoe scowls at him. “What? She’s going to Hell anyway, might as well escort her there myself,” he says with a laugh. 

Junhoe sighs. “Unhelpful as ever. Go home, Jiwon.”

Jiwon jumps off the counter, landing light on his feet. He puts a hand on either side of Junhoe and leans in. 

“There’s a storm coming, Junhoe, hope you’re ready.”

And like that he’s gone, and Junhoe is left to ponder what’s coming and how he can get Chanwoo out of it alive.


	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Or maybe, it’s just the beautiful things are so easily broken by the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings at the end

Junhoe walks into school the next morning feeling optimistic. They’re going to have lunch with Hanbin and his friends. He’s convinced Chanwoo will get along well with them. He wants Chanwoo to have friends besides him. Something tugs in his heart when he remembers he’s on borrowed time. He’s come to see Chanwoo as a little brother figure in the month they’ve been together. 

“Morning!” he says brightly, sliding into his seat. Chanwoo looks up at him bleary eyed, and Junhoe frowns. Besides yelling at him for burning dinner, Chanwoo’s mother hadn’t done anything while he’d been there. 

“You alright?” Junhoe asks, reaching over and putting his hand on Chanwoo’s shoulder, shaking him slightly. 

Chanwoo yawns. “Yeah, just stayed up too late studying,” he says, crossing his arms on the desk and dropping his head down. 

Junhoe doesn’t believe him but he doesn’t push either. “You rest for awhile, I’ll take notes,” he says, pulling his notebook out of his bag.

Chanwoo eyes him warily. “Are you sure you’re not going to fall asleep five minutes in?” he asks. 

Junhoe laughs. “I promise you’ll have the best notes you’ve ever seen.” He sticks his pinky out and after a moment Chanwoo reaches over linking their fingers. 

“Wake me up if anything important happens,” he says, mouth opening wide in a yawn, before cradling his head in his arms. He’s out like a light in moments. 

Junhoe lets him sleep until the lunch bell rings. He nudges his shoulder, rubbing his back slightly. “Rise and shine,” he says when Chanwoo blinks his eyes open, temporarily confused by his surroundings and Junhoe’s presence. 

“Class over already?” he asks, yawning widely. 

“It is and I promise I took perfect notes,” Junhoe says solemnly. 

Chanwoo smiles and opens his mouth to say something but is distracted by Hanbin’s approaching figure. He looks shy, maybe a bit nervous. 

“Hey guys. Um, you still wanted to sit with us today right?” he asks, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the floor. 

Chanwoo looks uncertain but Junhor takes over, giving them both a wide, sunshine smile. “Of course we do, let’s go,” he says with a clap of his hands. Hanbin visibly relaxes and his friend group makes their way over. 

Chanwoo stands up and Junhoe links arms with him, partially because he can and partially to keep him from running away. The group make their way to the cafeteria and once they have their food, claim a table. Junhoe puts Chanwoo between himself and Hanbin, closing him between the two people he knows best at the table.

“Chanwoo you already know everyone, but I don’t think you do Junhoe. This is Yunhyeong, Jinhwan, and Donghyuk.”

Junhoe smiles and gives them all a little bow of acknowledgement. 

Lunch goes well, better than Junhoe had expected. Chanwoo quickly integrates into the group, laughing and smiling along with the stories the boys tell. He doesn’t offer much in return, not having many happy stories to tell. But, the other boys are happy to include him. 

Hanbin seems to adore Chanwoo. Junhoe can practically see the hearts forming in his eyes. It’s an interesting development, and one he hopes has a happy ending for both parties. 

They reluctantly part ways once they get back to the classroom. Hanbin only leaves once he gets a promise, from Chanwoo, that he’ll sit with them tomorrow. Chanwoo promises with a genuine smile before sliding back into his chair. 

Junhoe kicks him lightly. “And you thought they were only after me,” he laughs. 

Chanwoo flushes. “They’re a lot nicer than I expected. I mean they’ve never been mean to me but they’ve never talked to me either. You don’t think they’re doing this as a joke do you?” he asks, suddenly concerned. 

Junhoe shakes his head with a small laugh, remembering the adoring look on Hanbin’s face. “Nah. It’s just time for you to accept that you’re a likeable person who deserves good things.”

Chanwoo hums but doesn’t answer, turning to look at the teacher as she begins talking. He wears a thoughtful expression on his face for the rest of the day. 

The next few weeks go by the same way. Every morning Hanbin and Co. gather around Junhoe and Chanwoo’s desk before class starts, and every day they eat lunch. Chanwoo fits in perfectly, like he’s always been there. Junhoe stays on the outskirts, interacting just enough to not raise suspicion. He doesn’t need to get attached to any more needy teenagers. 

It only takes a week before Hanbin and Chanwoo start holding hands, faces flushed and eyes not quite able to meet. It wasn’t part of Junhoe’s plans but it’s a nice surprise. He wants Chanwoo to be happy and he can see that Hanbin makes him just that. 

He pulls back little by little, letting Hanbin, Jinhwan, Yunhyeong, and Donghyuk fill in the gaps. Half his job is done. Chanwoo has friends, a support system, a boyfriend. He’s happy for the first time in his life. The only thing he needs now is for Junhoe to take care of his mother. 

He considers Jiwon’s offer to do the dirty work. He knows he was joking, but he also knows he would do it in a heartbeat. Junhoe wonders if he could stomach doing the dirty work himself. Wonders if God would forgive him for that. But he has to get Chanwoo away from her somehow. It’s been two months already. For the moment he tries to focus on Chanwoo’s smile as he chats with his new friends. 

Of course, because things are going well, they go to shit immediately. 

Junhoe is in a good mood as he walks into school the next morning. He’s getting a little sick of pretending to be a teenager, but at the same time it’s an interesting experience. He was born a fully grown immortal, he doesn’t have a background in being a teenager. 

He muses on this as he steps into the classroom. His gaze first lands on Hanbin, sitting in his own seat, talking to Yunhyeong. Junhoe’s eyes flit to Chanwoo to check his reaction. Only, Chanwoo isn’t in his seat. This isn’t completely unusual. Chanwoo sometimes makes it right before the bell, but something doesn’t feel quite right in Junhoe’s stomach. 

“Hey Hanbin,” Junhoe says, moving towards Hanbin’s desk. Hanbin smiles at him. 

“Morning Junhoe, what’s up?” he asks. 

“Have you seen Chanwoo yet today?” 

“Oh, he’s sick. He texted me last night that he wasn’t feeling well,” Hanbin answers. 

“Thanks,” Junhoe says, before immediately turning around and walking out of the classroom. If Chanwoo wasn’t feeling well, he’d have told Junhoe. He tells Junhoe everything. 

Junhoe ducks into a hidden corner, meaning to pop over to Chanwoo’s. Only, it doesn’t work. He tries again, and a third time to no avail. He gives up, not having time to figure out why his powers aren’t working. 

He takes off running, desperate to get to Chanwoo, to make sure he’s okay. The cold air burns his lungs when he bursts out of the building and takes off across the school yard. The gates are locked and he swears, and starts climbing. He drops to the other side with a heavy thud, landing on his ass. 

He doesn’t let it slow him, quickly climbing to his feet and running again. He slips and slides down the sidewalks, the fresh powdering of snow making his journey treacherous. He falls twice more, but he keeps going, not even noticing his bleeding knee and stinging palms. 

He practically crashes into Chanwoo’s front door. He tries popping in but his powers still aren’t working. He swears, trying to figure out how the hell he's going to get in. He circles the house, finally finding an unlocked window in the kitchen.

He pries the window open and punches out the screen, swearing as his knuckles split. He crawls painstakingly through the window and onto the counter. He takes a moment to right himself before climbing down. 

The house is eerily quiet. He sends a soft prayer that Chanwoo is upstairs, knocked out with a fever and a stuffy nose. He tiptoes up the stairs, and peaks into Chanwoo’s room. It’s empty, the bed perfectly made, and everything immaculately clean as he always keeps it. 

He creeps back downstairs, unsure of what to do next. None of his powers are working, including his built in Chanwoo detector. There’s no heartbeat leading him to the boy. He spins in a slow circle. Chanwoo isn’t in any of the downstairs rooms either. 

That’s when Junhoe spots another door. It’s tucked away, easy to miss. Junhoe pulls it open to find a descending flight of stairs. He flips the light switch on and makes his way down the stairs. Immediately he knows something’s wrong. 

As his steps creak down the stairs he starts to hear faint noises. Someone is yelling, fists are pounding against something. He rushes down and almost loses his stomach. The noises are coming from a padlocked chest freezer. 

“Chanwoo!” he yells, running over to it. He runs his hands over the padlock, willing it to break. It doesn’t. He tugs at it frantically as he looks around. He spots the key several feet away, hanging from a hook on the wall. He grabs it and rushes back over, swiftly unlocking the freezer. He throws the lock as far away as he can in the small basement. 

He immediately throws open the lid. Chanwoo is inside, sobbing, though he’s stopped banging on the walls. 

“Mom,” he pleads, voice broken and hoarse. “Mom please, mom please I’m sorry.” He begs over and over again. 

Junhoe reaches to haul him out and Chanwoo flails, smacking into Junhoe. 

“I’ll be good. I swear I’ll be good. I promise,” his voice breaks as he sobs. He collapses on the floor as Junhoe frees him completely, and Junhoe immediately collapses beside him, pulling him into his lap. 

He pulls the boy into a tight embrace, even as Chanwoo fights him. “Shhh, Chanwoo, shh,” Junhoe soothes, stroking Chanwoo’s hair. Chanwoo screams, clawing at him, trying desperately to get away. Junhoe chokes on a sob. He doesn’t know what to do. Chanwoo thrashes in his grip, panicked noises bubbling out of his throat. 

“It’s me, it’s Junhoe.” It takes a few moments but Chanwoo gradually stops fighting, going limp in Junhoe’s arms. Junhoe doesn’t know if it got across or if Chanwoo is simply too tired to fight anymore until his hands fist in Junhoe’s jacket and he sobs into his shoulder. 

Junhoe holds him through it, one arm wrapped tight around him, the other cradling the back of his head. He doesn’t know how long it takes Chanwoo to come back to his senses but eventually his breathing evens out and the tears stop. Junhoe continues to hold him. 

“Junhoe?” Chanwoo croaks, sounding confused. 

“It’s me, I’m here. I’ve got you,” Junhoe answers, his arms tightening again. 

Chanwoo goes quiet again and Junhoe has to hold back his own tears. He’s seething with rage, at Chanwoo’s mother and at himself. How could he have let this happen? He should have stopped it. He’d watched so closely, missed so many signs, and now this. He wanted to find that woman and kill her with his own two hands. He wanted her to feel every bit of pain and suffering she had ever caused Chanwoo. 

“How are you here?” Chanwoo mumbles into Junhoe’s shoulder. Junhoe tightens his hold on him. Chanwoo is limp in his arms, energy spent. 

“That doesn’t matter,” Junhoe says. “All that matters is that you’re safe.”

“You’ve gotta leave before she finds you,” Chanwoo says, suddenly frantic. “She’ll hurt you. She’ll hurt you Junhoe.” He fights Junhoe’s grip, batting at his arms. Junhoe doesn’t move, taking the hits.

“She’s not gonna hurt me Chanwoo, and she’s not going to hurt you ever again, I won’t let her,” he swears, fists clenching. 

“You can’t stop her,” Chanwoo says, voice breaking on a sob. Junhoe rocks him through another round of tears. 

“Chanwoo,” Junhoe says carefully. “Why did she put you in there?” He brushes tears off Chanwoo’s face. 

“She,” he starts, stopping to bury his face in Junhoe’s jacket for a long moment. Junhoe rubs soothing circles against his back. 

“She found out about me and Hanbin. I wasn’t careful enough. She found my phone,” he bites his lip, trying to stop the tears pooling in his eyes. 

Anger wells in Junhoe. He’s never felt like this in his life. “Come on, we’re leaving,” he says suddenly. “I’m taking you to my place and we’ll go from there. Can you stand?”

Chanwoo nods and Junhoe helps him climb to his feet. He’s shaky but manages to walk on his own. He goes up the stairs with Junhoe behind him, steadying him. 

“You stay here,” Chanwoo says when they reach the top of the stairs. “Let me go get some clothes.”

“Are you sure?” Junhoe asks, uncomfortable being more than a few feet from the other at the moment. 

Chanwoo nods. “I need to do this myself, just stay here.”

Junhoe finally acquiesces, nodding in response. He leans against the wall as Chanwoo makes his way upstairs.

It’s only moment before he hears a woman’s voice shriek. 

“How did you get out of there you piece of shit?” Chanwoo’s mother screams. 

And Junhoe is moving. “Don’t you fucking touch him,” he’s yelling as he runs towards the stairs. 

But it’s too late. Just as he rounds the corner, she pushes Chanwoo, and he’s falling and falling and Junhoe tries to freeze the moment but his powers don’t work.

Chanwoo’s head hits the floor with a resounding crack. Someone is screaming and Junhoe thinks it might be himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for severe and graphic child abuse. Chanwoo is locked in a freezer by his mother and she later pushes him down the stairs. 
> 
>  
> 
> This was a hard chapter to write and I’ve been told it’s hard to read as well. If you need any support please feel free to reach out to me, you can always find me on twitter @noahindaeyo


	6. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If I got rid of my demons, I’d lose my angels.”

“Chanwoo, wake up. Please wake up,” Junhoe says, hand cradling Chanwoo’s face. He wants to shake him awake, snap him out of it, but he doesn’t dare, afraid of injuring him further. 

He can’t leave his side. He barely notices Chanwoo’s mother as she runs out of the house, shocked by her own actions. Though Junhoe doubts she has the capacity for guilt. He hopes she crashes her car. If not he’ll kill her himself later. He no longer cares. 

“Chanwoo,” he begs, dropping his head the boy’s chest. His tears soak into Chanwoo’s shirt, but he can hear a heartbeat and he gasps in relief, clinging to the younger boy. 

It takes him a minute to remember his powers aren’t working and that the longer he waits, the worse Chanwoo will get. With shaking hands he pulls his phone out and dials 119. 

“119, what’s your emergency?” a calm female voice asks. 

Junhoe’s mouth feels glued shut. 

“Hello?” she asks again. 

Junhoe sobs. “My, my friend. He’s hurt,” his voice is desperate and pleading. 

“Okay, it’s okay hun, we’ll take care of him. Can you tell me where you are?” she asks. 

Junhoe sobs out the address. He hears a keyboard clicking. 

“Okay they’re on their way. Stay on the line with me until they get there.” She says, and her calm demeanor calms him just slightly. 

“Is your friend breathing?” she asks. 

“Y-yes,” Junhoe chokes. 

“That’s good, is he bleeding?”

“No.”

“Good. Is he awake?”

Junhoe breaks into sobs again, head pillowed on Chanwoo’s chest. “No he’s not,” He sobs. 

He hears someone come through the door and the nice lady on the phone says something but he can’t hear her through the roaring in his ears. 

Someone is bodily picking him up and he fights them. They’re stronger than he is and he yells as he’s dragged away from Chanwoo. He looks so vulnerable lying there unmoving and Junhoe’s heart shatters all over again. 

Strong arms hold him even as his legs collapse underneath him. People are swarming Chanwoo and Junhoe knows they’re there to help. But they shouldn’t have to. He should have stopped this long ago but he failed. 

Suddenly he can’t get enough air in his lungs. He feels like he’s suffocating, and the arms around him aren’t helping. He fights weakly against them, still straining to breathe. He can see black spots clouding his vision and his body goes limp, and he fades out. 

When he comes to he’s laid out on the floor, two paramedics hovering over him. 

“There you are,” the female says kindly. 

“What?” is all Junhoe’s confused brain can muster. 

“You had a panic attack, but you’re alright now kid,” the other paramedic, a male says. 

Kid? He’s not a kid, he’s an angel, what’s going on?

It all crashes down on him a second later and he’s scrambling, even as the male paramedic catches him, trying to get him to at least sit down. 

“Chanwoo,” Junhoe practically yells. “Chanwoo. I’ve got to get to Chanwoo,” he says, fighting against the paramedic’s touch. 

The lady puts a soothing hand on his arm. “Is that your friend’s name?” she asks, guiding him to sit back down.

“Yes,” Junhoe says, fidgeting but trying to staying calm. “Where is he?” he asks, panic rising in throat. 

“They took him to the hospital already. They’re gonna take good care of him,” she says, rubbing his arm comfortingly. 

“You did good calling us,” the male says, his hand on Junhoe’s shoulder. 

“Are you feeling well enough to talk to the cops,” he asks. “We need to get your statement about what happened.” 

Junhoe nods. “Absolutely.” He can do that much. He would do anything for Chanwoo. 

Twenty minutes later he’s sitting with a cop, explaining the story for the third time. He’s frustrated, and exhausted and he just wants to make sure Chanwoo is alright. 

It’s another twenty before they release him. They give him the name of the hospital with the promise that he can see Chanwoo as soon as he’s stable. He stumbles away from the house as the last vehicle pulls away. He makes it to a nearby alley before collapsing, head between his knees as he slumps against the wall. 

He doesn’t know how long he stays like that before he feels a presence next to him. He doesn’t look up, not in the mood to deal with Jiwon lording over him. He’s shocked when moments later an arm wraps around him and he’s pulled into Jiwon’s side. 

“Hey,” Jiwon says. “How are you holding up?”

Junhoe hiccups on a sob. “Is he going to be alright?” he asks.

Jiwon sighs. “I don’t know. He’s not one of mine.”

Junhoe lapses into silence, enveloped in Jiwon’s warmth. It’s been a long time since they were this close, but that barely registers in his mind. Exhaustion takes over, dragging him down into the depths of sleep. He doesn’t even notice Jiwon taking him home and tucking him into bed. Jiwon casts a longing gaze at the sleeping angel before disappearing. 

One Week Later

beep. beep. beep. beep. beep. beep. beep. beep. 

The rhythmic beeps from the machines monitoring Chanwoo do nothing to calm Junhoe’s frazzled nerves. He’s slumped in the chair next to Chanwoo’s bed, a coffee that’s slowly going cold clutched in his hand. 

It’s been a week and Chanwoo hasn’t so much as stirred. For such a tall boy, he looks shrunken and small in the hospital bed and Junhoe can’t handle it. He wants to throw things, break things, anything to get out this pent up anger and fear. 

He sets the coffee to the side and leans forward. He hold Chanwoo’s limp hand between his own. “Listen, Chanwoo, I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can listen to me. You have to get better. You can’t let her win. She’s in jail now, she’ll never touch you again. So it’s okay, take your time and heal but promise me you’ll wake up.”

He waits, he’s not sure if for an answer or a miracle. He gets neither and he sighs. He clutches Chanwoo’s hand tight for a few more minutes before tucking it beneath the blankets, tucking Chanwoo in. 

A snow storm rages outside, but Junhoe doesn’t notice it, lost inside his own head. He barely notices someone else coming into the room until he hears his name. 

“Oh Junhoe, there you are,” Hanbin says. He pulls off his soaking jacket and comes to sit next to Junhoe. 

“Oh Hanbin, hi,” Junhoe says a few moments later, once his brain has registered Hanbin’s presence. 

“I haven’t seen you at school,” Hanbin says. 

Junhoe shrugs. “Haven’t really been feeling up to it.”

Hanbin nods. “I understand that. This can’t be easy for you. How are you holding up?”

‘I’m not’ is what Junhoe wants to say but he doesn’t, choosing to shrug instead. “I’ll be better when he wakes up.”

Hanbin sighs. “I talked to the doctors. They think he’ll wake up, they’re just not sure when.”

Junhoe nods like any of this is new information to him. He’s spent days pestering the doctors for any information. There’s been no news in the last few days. Chanwoo is stable and out of danger. It’s just a waiting game to see if, no, when he’ll wake up. 

Suddenly sitting in the presence of another person is too much to handle. “I’ll give you some time with him,” he says getting to his feet. “It was good to see you Hanbin.”

He wanders the halls of the hospital. He goes invisible, cures some minor aches and pain as he goes. If he can’t help Chanwoo, he can at least do some good. 

Two Weeks Later

“Sitting here day and night isn’t good for you,” Jiwon chides, throwing himself into the chair next to Junhoe. 

“Didn’t ask, don’t care,” Junhoe replies petulantly. Jiwon is right. He doesn’t remember the last time he ate and he definitely needs a shower. 

“Go home, eat something, have a nap. I’ll stay with the kid,” Jiwon says, sticking his pinky out. 

Junhoe doesn’t take it. “How do I know that you won’t spirit him off to Hell while I’m gone?”

“Told you already, he’s not one of mine. His fate is completely out of my hands,” Jiwon answers. 

Junhoe sighs. “You better still be here when I get back,” he says. 

He pops home. He’s barely been home in weeks and it shows. A light layer of dust is beginning to coat his belongings, and everything in the fridge is spoiled. He sighs and orders takeout before taking a shower. 

When the food arrives he gratefully scarfs it down, before falling face first into his bed to get some much needed rest. He wakes up four hours later not feeling much better. He contemplates trying to get some more sleep but decides against it. He doesn’t trust leaving Chanwoo alone with Jiwon for too long. 

Jiwon is still there, as promised. Junhoe plops down in his chair. 

“Feeling better?” Jiwon asks. 

“A little,” he admits. 

They lapse into silence for a long while. 

“What’s on your mind?” Jiwon asks finally. 

“What?” Junhoe asks, startling back into awareness. 

“I can hear you thinking all the way over here,” Jiwon says. “Spill.”

“My powers,” Junhoe says with a sigh. 

“Ah,” Jiwon says knowingly. 

Junhoe’s powers had come back the day after the incident. He’d suddenly been able to teleport, to heal. Except his powers didn’t work on Chanwoo. He’d tried every day, ten times a day to no avail. It was no use. 

“Why don’t they work on him?” Junhoe breathes. 

Jiwon is silent for a moment, contemplating. “Who do you think has the power to do that?” he asks finally. 

Junhoe shakes his head. “He wouldn’t. Why would He?” he asks. 

Jiwon shrugs. “I don’t pretend to understand what goes through His mind. It’s not like we have deep talks. Not anymore anyway.” Junhoe can’t decide if Jiwon sounds wistful or not. 

“I just don’t understand. I was supposed to protect Chanwoo, to save him. Why would He stop me?” Junhoe practically shouts, now pacing in agitation. 

“Maybe it was a test,” Jiwon suggests. 

Junhoe freezes, turning to face Jiwon. “Do you think I passed?”

“That I can’t tell you,” Jiwon says. Junhoe collapses back into his seat and they lapse into silence once more. 

The next time Junhoe turns to say something, Jiwon is gone. 

Three Weeks Later

Junhoe is slumped in the chair half asleep. They had kicked him out last night at 9 when visitor hours ended. He’d popped right back in, making sure to go invisible any time a nurse had come in to check Chanwoo’s vitals. He’d popped out shortly before visitor hours started and walked right back in the room. It had become routine at this point. He left only when Hanbin or Jiwon came to shoo him away for a bit. 

He tries his best to remain optimistic. The doctors are still sure Chanwoo will wake up. The bleeding has stopped and the swelling has gone down. But it’s been three weeks and he still hasn’t so much as twitched. 

Junhoe has stopped praying, stopped asking for guidance or help. He’s upset with God. Jiwon has convinced him it was Him who had interfered with his powers, and it’s the only thing that makes sense. It’s not fair, to send him to save this boy and then make his job deliberately harder. 

He sighs, scuffing his toe against the linoleum floor. 

“You look like shit,” a hoarse voice says, and Junhoe jumps, nearly falling out of the chair. And he does fall when he realizes the voice belongs to Chanwoo. He’s bleary eyed and clearly confused, tugging at the various tubes attached to him. 

Junhoe slides over, taking both of Chanwoo’s hands in his to stop him from dislodging anything important. “Jesus, Chanwoo,” he says, clutching Chanwoo for dear life. “You scared me.”

Chanwoo looks at him confused. “What’s going on?” He’s looking around the room and trying to piece it all together. 

“How much do you remember?” Junhoe asks, letting go of Chanwoo’s hands to brush his hair off his face.

Chanwoo goes silent for a long time. Long enough to worry Junhoe. Finally he speaks. 

“You saved me,” he says quietly. “I don’t remember anything after that.”

Junhoe nods. “After I got you out, she pushed you down the stairs. You hit your head really hard.”

“How long?” Chanwoo asks. 

“Three weeks.”

“Okay,” Chanwoo swallows. “Where is she?”

“In jail. She’s never going to touch you again Chanwoo, I promise. I won’t let her,” Junhoe says. 

Chanwoo closes his eyes and nuzzles his face into Junhoe’s palm. “I’m tired,” he says. 

“Go back to sleep. I’ll go let the nurses and Hanbin know you’re awake.”

Chanwoo’s eyes pop back open. “Hanbin?” he asks happily. 

“He’s been here almost every day to see you, now go back to sleep,” Junhoe says fondly. 

“Mmkay,” Chanwoo says, already nodding off. 

It takes another week before Chanwoo is ready to leave the hospital and Junhoe stays by his side the whole time. It’s bittersweet because he knows his time with him is limited. He’s never been this attached to a charge before. 

“What’s on your mind?” Chanwoo asks, the day of his discharge. He’s sitting on the bed, legs dangling over the edge. 

Junhoe hums in response, thinking over his lie one last time. 

Chanwoo nudges him with his foot and Junhoe looks up. 

“What is it?” Chanwoo asks again. 

Junhoe sighs. “I’m transferring schools,” he says finally. 

Chanwoo freezes. “Why?”

“Wasn’t my choice. My mom thinks it would be better if we moved back home,” Junhoe says, choking on the lie. 

Chanwoo is silent for a long time. “When are you leaving?”

“Today,” Junhoe says with a frown. “I’m here to say goodbye.”

“Come here,” Chanwoo beckons, Junhoe goes. Chanwoo wraps his arms around Junhoe and Junhoe returns the fierce hug. 

“Thank you,” Chanwoo whispers into his ear. “For everything. For being my best friend, for saving me. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

Junhoe buries his face in Chanwoo’s shoulder, trying to hide his tears. “Live well Chanwoo,” he says softly. 

Junhoe watches Chanwoo from afar the next few weeks. He settles into a new home with a family who cares about him. He and Hanbin are falling in love, and he’s got good friends. It’s everything he deserves. 

Junhoe sighs as he turns away for the last time. Jiwon is standing there when he does. 

“You did good,” he says as way of greeting. 

“Why does it hurt so much?” Junhoe asks. 

“Because you always were a bit of a sap,” Jiwon says, slinging an arm around Junhoe’s shoulders. “I’m hungry. Let’s go get some food.”

For once Junhoe doesn’t put up a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of part one of Halcyon. Everyone wave goodbye to our sweet Chanwoo! I hope you enjoyed it, look forward to next week to see what it brings. ;)


	7. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “chaos is an angel who fell in love with a demon”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please check the end notes for trigger warnings

Part One

Junhoe wakes up on a floor, unsure of where he is. He sits up, muscles protesting and sore. Looking around he’s in an apartment, but it’s not a place he recognizes. He pulls himself to his feet and peers out the window. The brilliant sunlight blinds him for a moment before he can take in the sight of the city, stretched out below him. 

This isn’t Heaven. 

It is in fact, Seoul, South Korea. He rifles through the papers he’s found, telling him where he is. He knows the country, small but powerful. It takes a minute for the wheels in his head to move, to click into place and suddenly knowledge floods his brain. He takes in the history, the culture, the language, everything he needs to know for his stay. 

He and God had discussed sending him to Earth in detail recently but he hadn’t realized it would be so soon. He continues reading through the packet of papers left for him. Koo Junhoe. That’s who he is now and will be for his time here. The packet even has information about his apartment, which is thankfully the one he’s currently in, and what he has to do to pay his rent. Not much thankfully, just take care of his charges, no major sins, the usual. He tucks the packet away and steps out into the sunshine of Seoul. 

Everything is fascinating to Junhoe. He watches school children race down the streets, and grannies shooing them home. It’s so different than the orderly streets of Heaven. He finds money in his pockets and stops by a stand to get some food. It melts in his mouth and he can’t stop the groan that comes with eating it. 

He spends the day exploring and familiarizing himself with the neighborhood. He’s near the Han River and he spends a good portion of the afternoon soaking up the sun and watching families play until the afternoon sun begins to fade. He makes his way back to his apartment, stopping to get groceries. 

His apartment is? as he left it, and he settles in. It’s home now. He doesn’t know for how long, but as long as he’s here he’s going to enjoy it. He doesn’t yet know the bittersweet taste of loss, the sour taste of failure. For Junhoe everything is as it should be, the sweet taste of Heaven. 

His first few charges go well. He barely has to interact with them, just whisper suggestions in their ears while they sleep. He wonders if all Humans problems are so easily solved. 

His first real test is a girl named Minhee. She had run from an abusive home, and with no one to take her in, had ended up on the streets. On her own, her life had crumbled around her, and now she was working the corner, selling her body to keep herself alive. It was the first time Junhoe felt true sadness. 

He’s standing outside the hotel room her pimp keeps her in when he feels a presence. He turns to look and locks eyes with another man, a bit shorter than him, but far more muscular. He stares at Junhoe like he can see him, which is impossible, he’s invisible right now. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” the other man says. Junhoe looks around, sure there must be someone else.

“Yes, you, Michael,” he says, leaning casually against the railing. 

Junhoe starts. “How do you know that name?” he asks, despite telling himself to be quiet. 

The man laughs. “Have a few million years really changed so much between us that you no longer recognize me?” For a moment his form wavers and Junhoe hisses, reaching for a weapon that’s not there. 

“What are you doing here Lucifer?” Junhoe spits, hands itching to crush Lucifer and bind him back to Hell, as he has many times in the past. 

Lucifer seems unaffected. “They call me Jiwon around here,” he says casually. “Anyway, the better question is what you’re doing here.” He gestures around them. “This is the land of rapists and murderers. These souls are mine.”

“Not all of them,” Junhoe says, listening to Minhee’s gentle heartbeat as she sleeps. He’ll save her from those men, and he’ll save her from Luci- Jiwon. 

“Ah, the girl. Minhee is it? Pretty little thing isn’t she? A shame really. Doesn’t have much time left here, so you better not fail.” Jiwon smiles at him, and it’s feral, his teeth bared. Junhoe doesn’t miss the threat. 

“Of course, we could work together,” Jiwon offers, taking a step closer. 

“What do you mean?” Junhoe asks, suspicious. He refuses to give ground and stands firm as Jiwon works his way closer. 

“I get my souls, you get your girl,” Jiwon says like it’s that simple. 

“I don’t make deals with the Devil,” Junhoe shoots back. 

“Smart, angel,” Jiwon says before turning and walking away. He pauses and turns around and adds, almost thoughtfully. “Be careful around here, my demons behave as I tell them to, and I’d hate to have to ruin that pretty new face.”

And like that he’s gone. 

Junhoe feels helpless when it comes to Minhee. He tries approaching her but she thinks he’s another John coming to use her. He tries to tell her he can get her out of there and she threatens to call her pimp if he doesn’t get out of there right now. The next time he approaches her she threatens to have him killed if she ever sees him again. 

He leaves, not bothering to tell her he can’t be killed. Even if he’s immortal he still feels pain and has no desire to fish a bullet out of his skull. He walks home, mulling over his failed plan. He’s so trapped in his thoughts he misses Jiwon sitting on a bench, until he speaks. 

“Things not going to plan?” Jiwon asks and Junhoe jumps so hard, his physical form wavers, exposing his true form for a minute. They both stand in the dark, blinking away the blinding light of Junhoe’s halo. 

“Why do you care?” Junhoe asks finally, when he can see again. 

“I thought I made it clear, Junhoe. The girl’s not one of mine. And, she’s running out of time. If you don’t get your shit together soon, she will die. It will be a painful, unpleasant death. Do you want to have that on your hands, Junhoe?”

“How do you know this. She’s not your soul, you can’t see her fate,” Junhoe argues. 

“Correct,” Jiwon says. “However the scum keeping her are my souls, and I can see theirs, and I know she’ll be in the crossfire. So I suggest you figure it out, or swallow your fucking pride and accept my offer of help.”

Junhoe eyes him suspiciously. “Why would you want to help me.”

Jiwon crosses his legs. “I’m sure God tells you all sorts of bullshit about me, and I’m guessing about a tenth of it is true. I fell because I reached too high, and grasped for too much power. That much is true. However, my fall didn’t suddenly turn me evil in addition to being prideful. I rule a kingdom of assholes, doesn’t mean I am one.”

Junhoe moves closer as Jiwon speaks. 

“I enjoy reaping the souls of the evil, I truly do. I don’t enjoy innocent lives ending early. Minhee has done nothing wrong. She’s a kid who got handed a shit life. It doesn’t mean she deserves to die because of it. But she will, and soon.”

Junhoe doesn’t realize he’s been inching closer to Jiwon until the toes of their shoes bump, and he’s staring down at the other. 

“What do you want me to do?” is all he can think to ask. 

“It’s going to hurt, like a bitch,” Jiwon tells him. 

“I’ll do it. For her,” he says, fist tightening. 

Jiwon stands, forcing Junhoe to take a big step back. He pats Junhoe’s face and it burns just a little. “Good. Meet me at the motel next Tuesday at 9pm.”

“I’ll be there,” Junhoe says, but Jiwon is already gone. 

Junhoe monitors Minhee for the rest of the week. She’s weak and pale, and he can tell there’s drugs running through her system. She shivers nonstop in the early Autumn warmth. He tries not to intervene too much, but he can’t stand seeing her like this. He approaches her, invisible this time, and eases some of the symptoms, enough to stop the shivering and get rid of the ashy color in her face. 

When Tuesday comes, he sets out with a grim determination. For all he knows he could be walking into a trap, and it would serve him right for choosing to trust Jiwon. But he’ll take the risk of it means saving Minhee. Even if whatever bad thing that’s supposed to happen tonight doesn’t, she won’t make it much longer. She’s becoming a ghost of a girl, and he doesn’t know how to pull her back from the edge. So he’ll do what he has to, trap or no. 

Jiwon is already there when he arrives at the motel. He’s leaning against the handrail, and gives Junhoe a lazy wave as he ascends the stairs. 

“Took you long enough,” he says with a lazy smile that Junhoe does not return. 

“I’m on time. What’s the plan?” he asks. 

“The plan, is for you to go in there and be a shield and cover Minhee. Cause this place is about to get shot up and if you don’t, she won’t survive,” he says, smile never leaving his face. 

Junhoe reminds himself never to make a deal with the devil again. “So you weren’t kidding when you said this would hurt?”

Jiwon shrugs, then gestures to the door. “Tick Tock,” he says. 

Junhoe gives him one last look before popping through the door. He sees Minhee at once. She’s passed out on the bed, curled up in a ball. He can’t tell if she’s asleep or in a drug induced slumber. The soft rise and fall of her chest is the only indication that she’s alive. The men sitting around the room certainly don’t care. 

He hears fires squealing into the parking lot, and jumps on the bed, throwing his body over Minhee’s. She doesn’t move. It’s only moments later that the first gunshot rings out. The men in the room all jump to their feet. 

But it’s useless as machine gun fires rips through the room. Junhoe feels the bullets hit and everything is white hot, and all he can think before he blacks out is of Minhee. 

He wakes up on the floor of his apartment, and has a moment of dejavu. His body aches everywhere and it’s hard to move. There’s dried blood all over him and the linoleum of his kitchen floor. He groans and rolls over. 

Jiwon is sitting at the kitchen table, looking grim. “Morning sunshine,” he says, taking a sip of the coffee in front of him

Junhoe stares, not having found the energy to move any more. “How did you get in here?” he asks. 

“Got you to invite me. Threatened to leave you alone with all those bullets in you,” he smiles. 

Junhoe glares and pulls himself painfully into a sitting position. 

“What happened to Minhee?” he asks. 

“They took her to the hospital, detoxed her, and put her into the foster system. Congratulations kid, you did it,” Jiwon fake cheers. 

“How long was I out for?” Junhoe gasps. 

“About a week” Jiwon estimates. “We may be immortal but you were ripped to shreds, takes a while to heal.”

Junhoe looks around at the carnage of his kitchen and thinks of Jiwon taking the time to pull all of the bullets out of him. 

“Thank you,” he says genuinely. 

“My pleasure,” Jiwon says with a grin, raising an eyebrow. 

And from that an uneasy truce is formed. 

Part Two

Jiwon becomes a fixture in Junhoe’s life without him even realizing it. In a way, they become a team, a duo to be reckoned with. 

Junhoe increasingly gets charges who are involved with the seedy side of the law. Without Jiwon, he’s not sure how he would save them. And more than once, he puts his own body on the line to keep them alive. 

This always seems to amuse Jiwon. They sit on Junhoe’s kitchen floor. Junhoe hisses as Jiwon stitches a knife wound back together.

“Don’t you ever get tired of being such a martyr?” Jiwon asks, tying off the last stitch. Junhoe grunts and rolls his shoulder, trying to get feeling back into it. 

“Wasn’t it you who suggested it in the first place?” he asks, taking Jiwon’s offered hand and pulling himself to his feet. 

“That was a special case. I certainly never suggested you willy nilly throw yourself in front of every charge who’s about to get a booboo,” Jiwon says, moving to the sink to wash the blood off his hands. 

“He would have died if I hadn’t,” Junhoe says with a frown. 

“So?” Jiwon offers. “You can’t save them all.”

“That’s where you’re wrong Jiwon. I can save them. I have to, it’s my job. He wouldn’t give them to me if I couldn’t save them,” Junhoe says, voice sincere. 

Jiwon shrugs. “I hope you’re right. Because you’re too soft for this world.”

He moves closer, pinning Junhoe’s back against the counter. Junhoe freezes, suddenly sure he’s been lured into a long planned trap. And in a way he has. 

Soft lips press against his own, and for several heartbeats, Junhoe doesn’t know what to do. But then, the human side of him kicks in and he melts into the kiss, lips softening. Jiwon kisses him again, and he smells like sweat and sulfuer, but Junhoe pushes closer, gripping his t-shirt like a lifeline. Jiwon snakes an arm around Junhoe’s neck, pulling him down to his level. 

Junhoe gasps at the force and Jiwon slips his tongue in, licking at the inside of Junhoe’s mouth. Junhoe is putty in his grip, pliant and willing. Jiwon takes advantage, pulling their bodies flush together. Junhoe holds on for dear life. 

This continues for several minutes, the kitchen silent except for the smack of lips, and the pants of two men out of breath and terribly turned on. 

And just like that, Jiwon pulls away. Junhoe almost whimpers with the loss. 

“Goodnight, Junhoe,” he says, and then he’s gone.

Junhoe doesn’t know what to do. He knows what he’s just done is wrong, but it doesn’t feel that way and he feels no remorse for it. The only thing he wants is Jiwon’s mouth and hands back on his body. 

He paces his apartment until he swears there’s a groove in the floor and he can finally fall asleep. 

He doesn’t see Jiwon for two weeks, but he’s all Junhoe can think about. He’s not used to going more than a few hours without him at this point. He wanders around Seoul, half paying attention to his charge, half stuck in his own thoughts. Instinct is the only thing that has him stopping his charge from accidentally stepping in front of a bus. He drops the girl off, safe at home, and continues to walk. 

He doesn’t realize where he’s going until he looks up and sees the motel where he first met Jiwon in front of him. The police tape is long gone, and the bullet holes patched up. He wonders how many more girls weren’t as lucky as Minhee. He knows he’s not the only angel on Earth, but he also knows there’s not enough of them to go around. 

When he gets home Jiwon is leaning against the kitchen counter, eyes on Junhoe. Junhoe startles and has half a mind to punch him. He opens his mouth to give Jiwon a piece of his mind, but all that comes out is, “kiss me.”

Jiwon stalks closer to him, until Junhoe is backed up against the door. “I tried to stay away from you,” Jiwon murmurs, eyes on Junhoe’s lips. “Getting involved with angels is always so risky. But you, I never could stay away from you,” he says. 

Junhoe surges forward, dragging Jiwon into a heated kiss. Jiwon buries his fingers in Junhoe’s hair, taking back control of the kiss. He pulls Junhoe’s head back, and nips at his bottom lip. Junhoe gasps as Jiwon sucks at his neck, nipping not so lightly. Jiwon tongues the mark he’s just made in apology before moving to the other side to leave a matching one. 

Junhoe is brainless with lust, and pulls Jiwon back up to kiss him senseless. He wraps his arms around Jiwon’s neck, pulling him closer until their bodies practically melt into one. He can feel Jiwon’s arousal against his own, and gives an experimental roll of his hips. Jiwon groans and pulls away from him. 

Jiwon grabs Junhoe by the front of his shirt and hauls him through the apartment and to the bedroom. He easily shoves Junhoe, who goes willingly, on the bed. He strips quickly, Junhoe mirroring his actions. He pushes Junhoe back down to the bed and kisses a trail down his body. 

His tongue flicks over Junhoe’s nipple, and the angel gasps, chest arching into Jiwon’s mouth. Jiwon latches on, sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh. His hand comes up to pinch Junhoe’s other nipple, and the man wails, thrashing his head from side to side with overstimulation. Jiwon chuckles but he doesn’t let up. He can feel Junhoe leaking against his hip. 

He pulls away with a loud pop, and Junhoe’s whines taper off. “Where’s your lube?” he asks breathless. 

“Where’s my what?” Junhoe asks perplexed. 

“Your lube,” Jiwon says, voice dry. 

“Why would I have lube?” Junhoe asks, face confused. 

Jiwon throws his hands in the air. “Fucking angels, I swear. Stay here,” he orders, and disappears, leaving Junhoe confused. 

He pops back less than a minute later, a small bottle in his hands. He sits on the bed. 

“Why do we need that?” Junhoe asks. Jiwon rolls his eyes, and pours some over his fingers. 

“So I can do this,” he says, pressing a finger inside of Junhoe, who stiffens at the sudden intrusion. Jiwon reaches up and strokes his cheek with his free hand. “Relax,” he orders, and slowly Junhoe does. He begins to move his finger in and out slowly, giving Junhoe time to adjust. 

It’s a new feeling and it takes Junhoe long moments to get used to it, but slowly he feels the arousal coming back, a breathy moan slipping out from between his lips.

“Are you ready for another one?” Jiwon asks, kissing the inside of Junhoe’s knee. 

“Yeah,” Junhoe breathes. Jiwon presses a second finger in alongside the first. Junhoe’s face screws up and Jiwon stills, rubbing circles on his hip. Slowly Junhoe starts to relax again, and Jiwon pumps his fingers, scissoring and stretching Junhoe. 

By now Junhoe is enjoying himself, hands fisted in the sheets and loud whines coming out of his mouth.

“One more, you gotta take one more, okay?” Jiwon says, adding more lube. 

“Yeah okay,” Junhoe says but it comes out mostly as a puff of air. 

Jiwon pushes a third finger in, and immediately presses into a bundle of nerves. Junhoe turns his face to the side, moaning loudly into the pillow. Jiwon does it again and again, and Junhoe barely notices Jiwon slip an extra finger inside. 

“Jiwon,” he cries. 

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Jiwon promises, slipping his fingers out. Junhoe’s whines at the loss and Jiwon shushes him again. 

Jiwon lubes himself up and carefully begins to push himself inside of Junhoe. He guides Junhoe to wrap his legs around Jiwon’s waist. Junhoe’s mouth falls open in shock and pleasure and Jiwon slides a little farther in as he leans up to press a kiss to Junhoe’s mouth. 

When he’s all the way seated he stops, waiting for Junhoe to relax around him. And when he does, he pulls out almost all the way before pushing back in in one smooth motion. Junhoe cries out and Jiwon sets a steady pace, thrusting in and out of Junhoe. 

Junhoe’s legs tighten around Jiwon’s waist every time he hits those nerves, and Jiwon begins to aim for it. Junhoe’s getting increasingly louder, and his body is starting to twitch. 

“It’s okay,” Jiwon grunts. “Touch yourself, come for me,” he orders. 

Junhoe slides a hand between their bodies, wrapping his hand around his dick. It’s slick with precome and it only takes him a few strokes before he’s coming, vision whiting out. 

His body tightens around Jiwon, who fucks him through it, coming shortly behind him, spilling into Junhoe’s hole. He pulls out carefully, and collapses on the bed next to the blissed out man. 

It’s hours later when they’re sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee in comfortable silence. Neither has felt the need to redress. 

“You were good,” Jiwon says with a cheeky grin, and Junhoe gets pink in the face and so flustered he accidentally summons his wings. 

Jiwon stares at them. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen white wings,” he muses, standing up and stepping closer. He reaches out to stroke the feathers, hand presses against them when Junhoe lets out a pained scream. Jiwon snatches his hand back and he can see where his hand print is burned black against the pristine feathers. 

Junhoe jumps out of his seat, staring at his wing. “What’s going on?” he yells, backing into the wall. His eyes snap between the black path on his wings and Jiwon’s knowing face.

“Oh Junhoe” Jiwon says. “You know what’s going on.”

“No, I don’t. That’s a sign of Falling,” he gasps. 

Jiwon shakes his head sadly. “What do you think you’ve been doing this whole time?” he asks quietly. 

Junhoe shakes his head violently. “No. No. This is not happening. Get out,” he says, moving towards Jiwon. 

“Junhoe,” Jiwon tries, but Junhoe cuts off. 

“I knew better than to make a deal with you. Get out Jiwon. Get out now. I never want to see you again,” he spits. 

Jiwon looks on the verge of tears but he goes, there one moment and gone the next moment. 

And Junhoe weeps.   
a

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: forced prostitution, drugs, drug overdose, guns, being shot
> 
> If there’s anything else you think should be added please don’t hesitate to let me know. 
> 
> Now, an announcement. Due to personal circumstances, Halcyon will be going on a hiatus for awhile. I’m not sure how long exactly. But I need a bit of a break from this fic, due to its nature, and other personal matters. I’m really sorry to do this to you all, but I hope you’ll still be here when it comes back!
> 
> Also, have a say in how I post future chapters by voting in this poll. 
> 
> https://twitter.com/noahindaeyo/status/1023704141959442432?s=21


	8. chapter six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "She walked with her angels, but ran with her demons."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings at the end.

Junhoe’s days begin to blur together. He’s shifted back into an adult, and briefly considers getting a job again, but decides against it. He sinks into the depths of his bed and wallows. 

Chanwoo is safe. He’d managed to fuck it up royally but he’d gotten the job done in the end. He sighs and rolls over, smothering himself in the pillow. Sometimes he wishes he wasn’t immortal so he could find the tallest building and jump off it. Then he wonders if Angels are supposed to think like that. Probably not. 

Once upon a time he’d been a good angel, battling evil, kicking Jiwon’s ass. Now he’s half exiled, living on earth away from Him and his fellow Angels. He wonders if they laugh at him, scoff at him for all he’s done. 

He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t hear the door to his room open, or the soft footsteps that pad across the floor. He notices nothing until a weight settles on his bed and a soft hand lands on his back. 

“When was the last time you got up?” Jiwon asks, voice surprisingly gentle. 

Junhoe mumbles something into the pillow, and Jiwon just shakes his head, and rolls Junhoe on his side. 

“What was that, mumbles?” he asks. 

Their faces are close, one reach would bring Jiwon to him. Junhoe’s eyes flit to Jiwon’s red lips and he finds himself moving closer, until the memory of what happened last time Jiwon was in his room hits him like a truck. 

“I said get out of my room,” he says, shoving Jiwon away. Jiwon frowns, face sad, but stands up anyway. 

“I’ll be in the kitchen with food when your laziness decides to get up,” he says, a bit harshly, before swiftly exiting the room. 

Junhoe frowns and lays in bed another few minutes in protest. But, before long, the growling in his stomach forces him up and he follows his nose to the kitchen where Jiwon has laid out a huge meal. 

“Did you cook this?” he asks suspiciously. 

Jiwon grins at him. “Had to have hobby in my spare time,” he says, gesturing for Junhoe to sit down. Junhoe eyes him warily, but sits down eventually. 

He has to hand it to Jiwon, he’s a good cook. He scarfs the food down gratefully. He reckons it’s been a few days since he ate. Time blurs around him sometimes until he has no idea what it is. It’s been like that lately. 

He’s suddenly overcome with a sense of unease and frustration. He did everything he was supposed to, and yet there was nothing. No sign from God, the black spot still stained his wing. He was not forgiven, he was still half fallen. He had done his best to fix it, to no avail. 

Jiwon senses his distress. “What’s wrong June?” 

Junhoe cringes at the nickname not being used against him. “Nothing,” he lies. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going back to bed,” he says, standing up, and heading towards his room. He stops at the doorway. “Thanks for the food,” he adds before disappearing in his room, and shutting the door behind him. 

“Goodnight Junhoe,” Jiwon says softly, knowing the other can still hear him. He sighs and packs up the food so Junhoe will have enough to eat for a few days, before heading home. 

A few days later Junhoe wakes, feeling like he’s been struck by a hammer. His head is pounding and his eyelids feel like they’ve been glued together. He attributes it the Holy Power that’s currently emanating through his apartment. It’s never hurt him before, and his heart thumps uneasily in his chest. Has he somehow gotten closer to falling?

He sits up carefully, groaning as the world spins around him. He doesn’t chase the feeling through his apartment this time. He knows He isn’t here anymore, figures he won’t be seeing him any time soon, not until he’s proven whatever he has to. Not until he’s restored. 

He stands up, heading into the kitchen in search of some advil and water. Instead, he finds and envelope on his kitchen table. He picks it up, and turns it over in his hands. Another charge, another chance. He’s nervous to open it, nervous about what situation he’s walking into this time. He almost wants to throw it in the trash and say fuck it, and walk away. 

He frowns at himself, before carefully prying the letter open. Same as before, it’s two words printed on a page. A name. 

Cho Eunkyo. 

There’s nothing else to glean from the page, so he folds it back up and slides it back in the envelope. He tosses it on the table and heads towards the fridge in search of food. There’s still some of the kimchi fried rice Jiwon made the other night and he scarfs it down cold. 

An hour later, after a shower, and some more food, he’s starting to feel much better. He plops down in front of his computer and looks up Cho Eunkyo. 

She’s much easier to find than Chanwoo had been. She’s a university student at Yonsei. She’s on every form of social media available. Her pictures show a bleach blonde, tan girl, constantly surrounded by friends. In a judgemental moment he wonders what could possibly be so wrong in her life that she needs him. He shakes his head and scolds himself. Appearances are deceiving. Not everyone looks like a kicked puppy, like Chanwoo did. 

He closes the laptop and dresses. It’s late winter, and the chill is deep, freezing everything around it. He wraps a scarf around his face and pulls his beanie low and heads out to join the hoards hurrying from place to place. 

Yonsei is a far walk from his apartment, but the cold air clears his mind. 

The campus is large, but he can already feel the tugging feeling guiding him towards Eunkyo. He follows it, ambling across the campus. He blends in well with the university students milling around him. He watches them as they move, laughing and scurrying out of the cold, completely unaware of their place in the universe. He feels uneasy suddenly, knowing that his place in said universe is in jeopardy.

He finds Eunkyo not much later. She’s holed up in the library. Though she’s indoors, she still has her scarf wrapped around her like a blanket, the library not feeling much warmer than the chill of outdoors. She twirls a pen through her fingers, staring at the page in front of her. Junhoe gets the feeling she’s not taking in much information, judging from the glazed over look in her eyes. He quietly turns invisible and sits on the end of the table, crossing his legs under him, prepared to wait her out.

And wait he does. He’s mostly fallen asleep by the time Eunkyo packs up her things to leave. It’s a little after midnight when she finally pushes her chair back with a sigh, startling Junhoe back to awareness. She quickly packs up her bag, and bundles up before trudging out into the cold. It’s begun to snow lightly in the hours they’ve been inside, a dusting of powder coating everything around them.

Eunkyo doesn’t seem to notice any of it, walking briskly through the campus. Junhoe follows her, stifling a yawn. She quickens her pace as she steps off the university grounds and into the streets of Seoul. She looks around her, and scurries down a side street, and up a set of stairs. 

Her apartment is little more than a room, and Junhoe wonders how a university student can afford even this. She sheds layers until she’s in just a sweater and jeans. Junhoe peers at her, still trying to discern why he’s been assigned to her. So far she seems a typical student, staying up too late, and being stressed over classes. He watches as she boils water for ramen on a small stovetop. He settles on the floor by her door, figuring she’s in for the night.

After dinner and another hour of studying, she gets up and begins to get ready for bed. Junhoe is about to give up for the night, when she suddenly pulls her sweatshirt off. Junhoe means to look away to give her privacy, but his attention is caught by the thin lines criss crossing her arms from top to bottom. He can’t look away, entranced by the lines, knowing exactly what they mean. And he knows suddenly why he was assigned to her.

He’d had to save Chanwoo from his mother. He has to save Eunkyo from herself.

He sighs as he quietly steps out of the apartment, leaving Eunkyo to her slumber. He decides to walk home. The night is quiet, and the cold burns his lungs. He sinks into his thoughts as he travels. He realizes he doesn’t have the faintest idea what he’s doing, or what he’s been thrown into. Chanwoo’s situation hadn’t been easy, but at the end of the day it had been about getting him away from his mother. He can’t get Eunkyo away from herself. He knows he’s going to have to work harder than he ever has before. He supposes, starting tomorrow, he’s a student at Yonsei.

“What are you thinking about?” a voice calls, and Junhoe snaps his head around, jerked out of his reverie. Jiwon scrambles across the street, jumping in the cold as he stands next to Junhoe.

“What are you doing here?” Junhoe asks, frowning. “Don’t you prefer it hot?”

“Man, I’ve got to take you to Hell sometime,” Jiwon laughs. “It’s nothing like He told you, I promise you. No skulls or people screaming in agony. At least not out in the open.” Jiwon has a goofy grin on his face, and his nose is turning red in the cold. 

“Anyway,” Jiwon continues. “What’s on your mind, you look glum.”

“Like you don’t know,” Junhoe scoffs. “You seem to know what’s going on in my life before I do,” he says, tone accusatory.

Jiwon shrugs. “So who’d you get saddled with this time?” he asks.

Junhoe sighs, but begins to speak anyway. “Her name is Eunkyo, university sophmore, depressed and self harms,” he says, frowning again. 

“So what are you going to do?” Jiwon asks.

“I don’t know,” Junhoe says. “But I’ve got to figure it out fast.” He stops walking as he reaches his apartment building.

He looks behind to see Jiwon a few steps behind. “You coming in?” Junhoe asks.

Jiwon shakes his head. “Not tonight. Goodnight Junhoe.”

“Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for self harm.
> 
> I'm sorry, I meant to post this yesterday and fell asleep. I've decided to post chapters as I finish them. The next chapter is started but not completed so no guarantees for next week.
> 
> Find me on twitter @chanwo00


	9. chapter seven

Junhoe wakes with the sun the next morning. He lays in bed for a long moment, watching the sun rise out his window. He eventually pulls himself into a sitting position. He hadn’t slept well, mulling over how he should handle the situation. He still didn’t have many ideas. He was glad at least that he could pretend to be a university student, instead of actually having to suffer through the classes. It was too late in the semester for him to suddenly appear in classes. 

He’d decided at the very least, he could bump into her in the library. After he followed her around all day. It felt somehow creepy, to follow her invisibly. With Chanwoo, everything had been mostly out in the open. He tries not to dwell on it as he pops over to Eunkyo’s apartment. 

He settles on the steps, waiting for her to emerge. It doesn’t take long. She looks in a rush, as she flies down the stairs, and hurries through the streets. Junhoe scurries after her, trying not to lose her in the morning rush of people. The crowd thins out as they reach the campus, most students already in their classrooms. Eunkyo slides into a classroom just before the professor, dropping heavily into a chair. Junhoe settles at the back of the classroom and waits.

Eunkyo has a long day with four classes, and Junhoe is tired by the end of it. He can’t imagine how she feels. She seems like a diligent student, taking notes and asking questions. She’s surrounded by friends in every class, but she never lets them distract her for long. Junhoe watches them for any sign that they know about how she’s really feeling, but none of them seem to have any idea. He wonders how well any of them truly know her.

It doesn’t seem like she’s terribly close to any of them, as she heads to the library by herself. Junhoe feels bad for having misjudged her in the beginning. She stops at the cafe, grabbing a coffee, and something to eat, before heading up into the stacks of books, finding an empty table, and settling in at it, pulling her books out. Junhoe waits a while, until the other tables fill up, before going to an abandoned row of books and appearing.

He wanders around, pretending to look for a table before finally stopping in front of hers.

“Hey,” he says. “Sorry to bother you.”

She startles and looks up at him.

“Sorry,” he says with a small laugh. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I was just wondering if I could sit with you? Everywhere else is full.”

“Oh,” she says, voice small. “Of course you can!” She moves some of her books, making room for Junhoe to sit.

“Thanks,” Junhoe says with a small smile, sitting down across from her.

“I’m Junhoe, by the way,” he says, pulling his notebooks out and settling in.

“Eunkyo,” she says returning his smile.

They sit in silence, Eunkyo studying, and Junhoe pretending to as he tries to figure out how to befriend the girl across from him. As it turns out, it’s not that hard.

After awhile Eunkyo seems to grow bored with studying. She looks up to see Junhoe visibly not studying, instead doodling in his notebook.

“So,” she says, breaking Junhoe from his train of thought. He looks up at her. “What’s your major?”

“Philosophy,” he answers easily. He smiles. “What about you?”

“Political sciences,” she answers with a frown that Junhoe takes note of. 

“You don’t seem very happy about that,” he muses, twirling his pen through his fingers. She looks sharply at him. “Sorry,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. “Didn’t mean to be nosy.”

“No, no it’s fine,” she says, a little flustered. “It’s just that people don’t normally notice or care what does or doesn’t make me happy is all.” She shrugs it off and it’s Junhoe’s turn to frown. 

“Well they should,” he remarks. “Why political sciences then?” he asks, leaning forward on his elbows. 

She looks him over, like she’s afraid he’s making fun of her. She decides he’s not. “It was my parent’s decision,” she says, playing with her fingers and not looking at him. “They’re strict. They know what they want and they want me to follow the plan they laid out for me. I think they really just want me to settle down with some wealthy lawyer and give them grandkids.” She sighs. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m unloading this on you.”

Junhoe can see her lightly scratching at the back of her hand with her nail and he wants to tell her he knows how depressed and sad she is, but he has no way without looking like a crazed stalker. “It’s okay,” he says reassuringly. “I like to listen to people, and I like when people feel like they can trust me,” he says sincerely. 

She smiles softly, looking a bit like she’s going to cry. She sniffs and stands up suddenly. “I’m gonna go get a coffee from the cafe, do you want anything?” she asks, speaking quickly.

“Oh, um sure,” Junhoe answers. “An Americano is fine.” Junhoe watches her as she speeds off, feeling confused, and wondering if he did something to drive her away. She’s left her stuff, so he figures she’s coming back, he just wonders if he should be here when she does.

Eunkyo reappears fifteen minutes later. She sets the two coffees down on the table, and dumps an armful of snacks on the table. “I don’t know about you but I was getting hungry,” she says, tearing into a bag of chips. 

Junhoe laughs. “I have the biggest appetite in Korea, so I’m not going to say no,” he says snagging a pastry.

They both attempt to go back to studying, but it’s short lived. The library is slowly emptying out as the hour grows later. They end up talking and eating more than they study. It’s easy, Junhoe thinks. Eunkyo is a sweet girl. She’s smart and insightful, and Junhoe wishes he knew how to help her.

“Why don’t you just change majors?” He asks at one point.

She sighs, like she’s had this conversation before. She probably has Junhoe muses. “It’s not that easy. My parents would be furious. My dad in particular. We don’t come from much, and he and my mom worked hard to get me into Yonsei,” she says, pausing to chew on a piece of candy. “I owe it to them to do what they want. They just want me to have a better life than they did.” She shrugs, but Junhoe persists.

“But is it really better if it makes you miserable?” Junhoe asks.

“Who says it makes me miserable?” she asks defensively.

“Eunkyo,” Junhoe says with a little laugh. “Everyone can see. I’ve known you for a day, and I can see how unhappy you are.” He takes a sip of cold coffee. “Do you really think your parents would rather you be miserable just for their sake?”

Eunkyo wraps her sweater tighter around her shoulders. “I don’t know,” she sighs, fingers playing with a fraying seam. “You don’t know my parents, Junhoe. They’re particular. They think I’m just young and I’ll appreciate this all when I’m older. But you’re right I am miserable.” She tips her chair back and it clinks against the wall, but she keeps staring at her hands.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Junhoe says softly, reaching across the table to pat her arm. He can feel her slight flinch and pulls back. “I just think you need to live your life for yourself, that’s all.”

She laughs, tears in her eyes. “You must have really cool parents,” she says, wiping her eyes.

It’s Junhoe’s turn to shrug. “Not really. It’s just my dad and I,” he says. “He doesn’t talk to me anymore.” Junhoe’s laugh comes out bitter.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Eunkyo says. “Can I ask what happened?” she asks softly.

Junhoe sighs. “I’m just the family disappointment. I fell in with a crowd he doesn’t really approve of, and tried to live my life my own way and we fell out. So he kicked me out, and now we don’t talk anymore.” Junhoe tries to shrug it off, but the truth is it hurts. 

“Just like that?” Eunkyo gasps.

Junhoe nods. “Got up one morning and he told me to go.” He frowns for a long moment before remembering he’s not alone. “But hey, I get to live my life and find out my own meaning, so it’s not all that bad.”

“You really are a philosophy major,” Eunkyo says, pulling a small smile from Junhoe.

“So are those are our options then? Do exactly what our parents want and be miserable, or live our lives on our own. But does that really make you happy? You said you get to live your own life, but is it worth it without the love of your family?” She questions, and Junhoe senses the questions aren’t really aimed at him.

“Not everyone has the same situation as me,” he says quickly, trying to turn her thought process around. “There are plenty of people whose parents love them no matter what, even if they don’t agree on everything.”

She smiles sadly. “I think my parents are more like your dad than you think.”

The clock chimes softly, drawing both their attention. It’s midnight already. “It’s getting late, I should head home,” she says, beginning to pack up her things. Junhoe follows suite.

“It is late,” Junhoe agrees. “Let me walk you home at least,” he says, zipping up his bag.

“Oh, it’s okay,” she says. “You don’t need to.”

“For my own sake of mind? It gets dangerous out there this late,” he says, knowing the kind of evil that creeps the street.

She looks at him, like she’s trying to make sure he isn’t that evil. He must win out because she nods. “I’d appreciate that.”

They pack up and head out into the dark night. Little flurries of snow fly through the air as they walk in silence, both lost in their thoughts. They hadn’t gotten much work done but they’d delved deep into their pasts. Junhoe at least was left wondering, for the millionth time, if he would ever win back His favor, or if he’d be stuck on this planet, growing attached to suffering humans for the rest of eternity. He chances a glance at Eunkyo. She shuffles her feet as she walks, leaving skid marks in the snow. She doesn’t look at him, or at anything really. Junhoe wonders if she’s thinking of her parents.

He lets her take the lead, and together they travel the roads of nighttime Seoul. It’s beautiful for sure, lights wrapped around trees guiding their path. The streets are bare, most people asleep by now. They finally turn down the nearly hidden alley that led to her apartment. She stops at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’d invite you up but it’s small and messy,” she says apologetically. 

Junhoe shakes his head. “No, it’s okay, I’ve got to get home anyway. Let’s study together again, yeah?” he asks.

She smiles at him, but something seems off about it. “Definitely. Here, put your number in my phone,” she says, handing it over. Junhoe does, and hands her his phone to do the same. He watches her as she walks up the stairs. She turns and waves goodnight as she puts the key in the lock. Junhoe waves back and turns to leave. He’s almost out of the alley when he feels a presence.

“Jiwon,” he says, without turning to look. 

“That’s me,” Jiwon says, slinking up alongside Junhoe. Jiwon is dressed in all black, a stark contrast to the white snow that’s begun to fall steadily. 

“Any progress?” Jiwon asks when Junhoe doesn’t say anything else. 

Junhoe shrugs. “I tried to convince her that she has to live her life for herself and not her parents but I think I just ended up scaring her,” he sighs. 

“What did you say?” Jiwon asks. 

“That my dad hates me for hanging out with you and kicked me out,” Junhoe says with a shrug, pulling his jacket higher to hide the pink flush of his cheeks. 

Jiwon cracks up, howling as he laughs. He stumbles against the wall, using it to support himself as he wraps his arms around his stomach and laughs and laughs. Junhoe scowls at him and shoves him so he tumbles into a snowbank. Unfortunately for Junhoe, Jiwon has the foresight to grab Junhoe, dragging him down too. 

Junhoe lands on Jiwon with a loud oof. He scowls but his eyes flick down to Jiwon’s face, so close and tantalizing. Jiwon’s eyes are glowing softly and Junhoe is entranced. He doesn’t realize he’s getting closer until Jiwon flicks him on the forehead. He rolls them over, pushing Junhoe farther into the snow. “Look, a snow angel” he says, snickering.

“Shut up,” Junhoe says, rolling his eyes.

“Anyway, I need to teach you how to talk to girls apparently,” he says, pushing himself up and off Junhoe. 

“It’s not like that,” Junhoe says, standing and brushing the snow off himself. 

“Okay lover boy,” Jiwon says, and Junhoe swears he sounds a little bitter. 

They walk in silence, their eyes trained on anything but each other. They could travel, but the snow is refreshing. It’s beginning to come down harder when Jiwon stops and looks up, eyes closed, snowflakes landing on his lashes. 

“A storm is coming,” he says. “A bad one.” He frowns. “There’s darkness in the air.”

“Okay cryptic, what does that mean?” Junhoe asks, mostly focusing on the way the flakes cling to Jiwon’s lashes. 

“I don’t know yet,” Jiwon admits. “Nothing good.” He shakes it off. “Anyway let’s get back to your place, dinner’s going to burn if we don’t hurry.”

“I should just give you key to my apartment at this rate.” Junhoe says, rolling his eyes. 

Jiwon laughs. “Have I ever used the front door?” He places a hand on the small of Junhoe’s back and travels them both back to the apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello I'm back! Thank you to everyone who waited so patiently. I'm happy to say that I've finished writing this fic so there'll be no more delays!


	10. chapter eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please see end for trigger warnings

The snow storm rushes in overnight, drowning Seoul in nearly a foot of snow. Classes are cancelled, and Junhoe revels in sleeping in for the first time in awhile. When he wakes, it’s because Jiwon is poking at him. He grumbles and slaps the man away.

“Just checking to make sure you were alive,” Jiwon says. “Oh and also I made breakfast.”

Junhoe grumbles some more, but so does his stomach. He’s awake now and can’t get back to sleep, so he finally relents, pushing his covers off. He shivers from the sudden change in temperature, but climbs out of the bed anyway. He catches Jiwon staring at his chest, and looks down, his nipples poking against his shirt in the cold. He grabs a hoodie and pulls it over his head before following the other into the kitchen. They stuff themselves full of waffles before Junhoe groans, uncomfortably full.

His phone buzzes and he grabs at it.

Eunkyo: Thanks for last night, I needed to vent like that  
Junhoe: no problem, i’m always here if you need something okay?  
Eunkyo: Thanks

“Who’s that?” Jiwon asks, leaning in to peer over Junhoe’s shoulder.

“Eunkyo,” Junhoe answers, setting his phone back down on the table, and eyeing the waffles again before deciding he’s too full. 

He stands up, yawning as he stretches. He grabs Jiwon’s arm and drags him towards the bedroom.

“Woah, woah, what are you doing?” Jiwon splutters. 

“Nap time,” Junhoe yawns.

“What does that have to do with me?” Jiwon asks, stumbling along after Junhoe.

“Pillow,” is all Junhoe answers before shoving Jiwon onto the bed where he bounces lightly. Jiwon looks confused but doesn’t fight as Junhoe shoves him around to get comfy with his face tucked against Jiwon’s shoulder. Junhoe passes out immediately, but Jiwon remains awake, perplexed at the sudden closeness between him and the angel. He doesn’t mind, but he’s confused by their game of push and pull. 

He brushes a lock of hair off Junhoe’s forehead as the other snores softly. Jiwon wraps his arms around Junhoe, and Junhoe wraps an arm around Jiwon’s waist, pulling him closer as he continues to sleep. Junhoe is like a space heater, and Jiwon finds himself drifting off, a small smile on his face.

 

It takes two days for the city to clear the snow, and by the third day Jiwon has gotten used to being used as Junhoe’s personal chef and pillow. He can’t say he minds.

Junhoe pouts as he throws notebooks in his bag, having been woken up early by Jiwon. “Why do I have to fake go to school anyway? This is stupid,” he grumbles, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. But Jiwon is gone, off to do whatever devilish nonsense he does when he’s not around Junhoe. 

Junhoe treks out into the snow. He’s halfway to campus when his phone buzzes. He ducks under the covering of a shop to check his phone.

Eunkyo: I’ve been thinking a lot about what we talked about  
Eunkyo: about happiness, and who we’re living for  
Eunkyo: and I know what I have to do  
Eunkyo: thank you, Junhoe

A cold shiver runs down his back, and it’s not from the cold. 

Junhoe: Eunkyo, are you okay?   
Junhoe: Talk to me.  
Eunkyo: Goodbye, Junhoe.

Junhoe panics, and tries to pop to her house. When his powers fail him, he nearly throws up, having flashbacks to Chanwoo. He takes off running. Slipping and sliding across the icy sidewalks, nearly knocking people over. Angry people shout after him, but he doesn’t stop to apologize. He can’t. Not when it’s this important.

He’s panting as he runs through the streets of Seoul, desperate to reach Eunkyo before she can do anything, but it’s taking forever. It feels like he’s running through sand. When he finally reaches her apartment, he dashes up the stairs. The door is locked, and when his furious banging brings no answer, he kicks it down, practically falling through the doorway. 

He stumbles into the small apartment and nearly throws up. Eunkyo lays on her bed, covered in blood. He runs to her side, dropping to the floor. Panicking, he shakes her. Her eyes flutter open.

“Junhoe,” she mumbles.

“Hey, hey,” he says, grabbing at the nearest piece of cloth to hold against her wounds. “Stay awake for me Eunkyo,” he pleads.

“Hurts,” she mumbles, her voice growing weaker. Junhoe realizes he’s crying when hot tears splash against his shaking hands. He wants to dial 119, but he doesn’t dare take his hands off Eunkyo’s arms, trying to stem the tide of blood.

“I know, I know, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” he sobs. But it’s useless, her eyes slip closed again, and Junhoe can feel the moment her life slips from her body. He screams, slamming his face against his fists. He stumbles to his feet, grabbing at her phone. He erases the messages she’d sent to him, tears still streaming down his face, before dialing the emergency line. He sets it in her limp hand, even as he hears the operator pick up. He leans down and presses a kiss against her forehead before he disappears, never to see her again.

“Jiwon,” Junhoe roars, body slamming into the wall as he haphazardly travels into his apartment. There’s no response. “Jiwon,” he yells louder.

A crackle and a pop and Jiwon appears before him mid laugh. “Relax, I’m here.” The smile on his face dies as he takes in Junhoe. He looks like a frightened animal, eyes wides and scared. Jiwon rushes to him, grabbing him.

“Junhoe, you’re bleeding. Why are you bleeding?” he asks frantically. Junhoe’s arms hang limp at his sides. “Junhoe, answer me,” Jiwon orders, and it brings Junhoe’s eyes into focus momentarily. 

“It’s… it’s not mine,” is all he says.

“Okay,” Jiwon says calmly. “Who’s is it?”

That brings the life back to Junhoe. He pulls away from Jiwon’s grasp, storms through the apartment. The pain of his fist going through the wall he’s just punched gives him enough clarity to look at Jiwon. The other looks worried, but Junhoe doesn’t care. He doesn’t give a damn about anything.

“Who’s blood is it Junhoe?” Jiwon repeats.

“It’s Eunkyo’s,” he snarls, rounding on Jiwon. “She’s dead. She’s fucking dead. Did you know?” he accuses, pressing a finger into Jiwon’s chest. 

Jiwon looks shaken up but stands his ground firmly. “You know I didn’t. She’s not one of my souls, I can’t see her fate.”

Junhoe punches the wall again. His chest is tight and rage sparks like him through lightning. He doesn’t realize he’s still punching, over and over, until Jiwon drags him away, arms tight around his middle. He tries to pull Junhoe to sit down, but Junhoe wrenches away. 

“I swear I didn’t know Junhoe. I would have told you,” Jiwon says. 

“You’re the Devil, how can I trust you?” Junhoe snarls.

Jiwon’s hurt expression quickly hardens and it’s his turn to shove Junhoe with a finger in the chest. “I have never lied to you. I’m not Him,” he says accusatory.

Something seems to click in Junhoe’s brain. “He knew. He fucking knew. He gave her to me, knowing how it was going to end. For what? To punish me? To screw with me?” Junhoe is pacing, his form warping as he struggles to stay calm enough to stay in human form.

“Junhoe,” Jiwon says, voice a warning. 

“No,” Junhoe snaps. “He knew. He did this on purpose. He was never going to forgive me. He wanted me to fail. Wanted it to be my fault. Can’t have anyone blaming Him for any of this.” Junhoe’s voice drops as he shimmers momentarily out of existence, his full angel form exploding into to view. For a moment Junhoe is an angel of wrath, one thousand eyed and dangerous, the kind the Bible warns about.

“Junhoe you need to calm down,” Jiwon yells. “If you do this there’s no turning back.”

Junhoe laughs, an eerie, chilling sound. “Don’t you understand Jiwon? There was never any coming back. He made sure of that. He wanted this to happen. Can’t you see?” Junhoe is laughing, and Jiwon backs away from him. The Heavenly light around Junhoe is fading, and his laugh is becoming more sinister.

“Junhoe, this is your last chance to stop this,” Jiwon warns.

“I don’t want to,” is all Junhoe says, before the feathers on his wings begin to molt. White feathers drop to the ground like tears, black feathers pushing their way through the skin. Junhoe screams in pain, dropping to his knees. Tears drip down his face as the feathers continue to pierce him.

“Junhoe,” Jiwon says helplessly.

“It’s okay,” Junhoe says, his smile a grimace. “This was always going to happen.”

Junhoe staggers to his feet, blood dripping from his wings. The pale white glow is almost gone now, coming only from the halo circling his head. 

“It’s time,” is all Junhoe says, before it shatters, fragments slashing him open as they fall. Junhoe screams in agony, clutching at his head. He stumbles through the room, crashing through furniture, the sound of shattering glass filling his ears. The pain erupting through him overwhelms him, and he can sense himself falling, before the dark takes him and he sinks below. 

When Junhoe wakes, he cries out, his entire body burning in agony.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you. It’s okay,” a voice says from above him. There’s a cool cloth on his skin, bringing down the burning heat.

“Jiwon,” his voice cracks.

“It hurts, I know,” he soothes. “Rest, I’ll take care of you.”

Junhoe isn’t sure how long he fades in and out of consciousness. The agony lessens a little every time he wakes, and Jiwon is there every time, soothing him, and keeping him from hurting himself worse.

He finally wakes to just slight soreness, and peels his eyes open, each eyelid feeling like it weighs a thousand pounds. He groans, and he hears feet shuffling quickly through the apartment, and shortly Jiwon’s face looms into vision. 

“Hey,” Jiwon says, brush the hair off Junhoe’s forehead, and for the first time in ages it doesn’t hurt.

“Hi,” he croaks, throat like sandpaper. Jiwon helps him sit up, his limbs shaking, before Jiwon carefully presses a bottle of water into his hands. Junhoe gulps the entire thing, before nearly throwing in back up. Jiwon frowns at him, before taking the bottle and setting it on the bedside table. He sits down on the bed, and give Junhoe a long once over, looking for signs that he’s still not okay.

But, Junhoe seems alright. He reaches out, stroking the side of Junhoe’s face, and Junhoe nuzzles into the touch, eyes sliding shut.

“How long was I out?” Junhoe asks cautiously. 

Jiwon just looks at him for a moment. “Weeks,” he says. Junhoe winces, and Jiwon nods. “Falling isn’t easy Junhoe. Your entire existence is rewritten. It’s Hell, literally.”

“Noticed that,” Junhoe mumbles, before giving Jiwon a curious look. 

“What,” Jiwon asks.

“Did you have anyone, when you fell?” Junhoe asks.

Jiwon smiles sadly. “You know I didn’t. When we fell we fell by ourselves. We all went through it at the same time. There was no helping ourselves, let alone helping anyone else. That’s why I’m glad I could at least help you through it. Though there wasn’t much I could do.”

“You did a lot,” Junhoe says as Jiwon leans forward, their foreheads bumping lightly. “I don’t think I would have made it without you.”

Junhoe tilts his head up, his lips meeting Jiwon’s softly. Jiwon kisses him once before pulling away. 

“You don’t have to do this, Junhoe. Just because you’re fallen doesn’t have to change the way you feel about me,” he says, self consciously.

“The way I felt about you never changed Jiwon,” Junhoe whispers. The moment feels holy somehow. “I’m in love with you, and I have been since that day you pulled bullets out of my back,” he says.

“Which time,” Jiwon teases.

“Hush,” is Junhoe’s reply, before pulling Jiwon closer, kissing him again and again. Jiwon’s hand cradles Junhoe’s chin, and he gently pushes him back against the bed, sliding in on top of him. Junhoe grips Jiwon’s hips, holding him close.

Jiwon kisses him again, slow and deliberate, and the first of many. Junhoe opens to him, allowing Jiwon access. And Jiwon takes it, tongue slipping into Junhoe’s mouth, kissing him deeply, properly. It might as well be the first time. It’s the first time they’re both on the same page, forever. It’s a moment Jiwon will always savor.

A long time later they pull apart, breathing into each other’s space. Jiwon smiles, and Junhoe smiles back.

And they’re both looking forward to forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for self harm, suicide, and blood in general
> 
> Thank you all for coming on this ride with me. I know it's been long and thank you for being so patient with me, it was a difficult time while writing this. Thank you for still reading after my long hiatus. There'll be an epilogue to wrap it all up next week, and that'll be it!


	11. Chapter 11

Junhoe pushes through the front door, leaving a bloody handprint on the wood. “I’m home,” he shouts as he kicks his shoes off.

“Dinner’s in the oven,” Jiwon calls back.

“Good, because I need a shower,” Junhoe says, padding through the apartment. He steps into the kitchen, and Jiwon turns to look at him, then takes a second glance.

“Whose blood are you covered in?” Jiwon asks, pursing his lips. “Not your own I hope.”

Junhoe shrugs. “No one who didn’t deserve it,” he says, crowding into Jiwon’s space, pressing him up against the counter. Jiwon frowns, but doesn’t hesitate to kiss Junhoe when he leans in, breath hot and heavy. Their tongues tangle as Junhoe licks into Jiwon’s mouth, unusually bold. His hard on presses against Jiwon’s thigh. Jiwon pulls away, licking at the blood on Junhoe’s cheek.

“Shower,” he orders. 

“Only if you come with me,” Junhoe says.

Jiwon looks at himself, now covered in streaks of blood. “Guess I have no choice, do I?” he says with a put out sigh. Junhoe smirks, and heads towards the bathroom, shedding clothes as he goes. He turns the shower on, and climbs in as he hears Jiwon close the door behind them. The water is warm, and runs red as he stands under it. He closes his eyes and revels in the heat. 

He groans as Jiwon’s fingers work shampoo through his now black hair, fingernails scratching at his scalp. “Jiwon,” falls out of his mouth.

“If I had known it was this easy to get you off you’d have been mine ages ago,” Jiwon laughs. Junhoe just sighs. 

“If I had known a lot of things, I’d have been yours a lot sooner,” he says, and Jiwon swats him on the ass.

“Stop ruining the mood,” he says, rinsing the suds from Junhoe’s hair. “We’re where we need to be, and that’s what matters,” he says, working conditioner through Junhoe’s hair. He grabs a washcloth, and soaps it up, cleaning the streaks of blood from Junhoe’s face and arms.

“Did you have fun?” Jiwon asks, dropping a kiss to Junhoe’s shoulder. 

Junhoe laughs. “Life is more entertaining when there’s no code to follow.”

“I wouldn’t say there’s no code, just a different one,” Jiwon says, prodding Junhoe forward into the spray. “What did he do anyway?”

“Tried to snatch a little girl,” Junhoe’s voice is steel. “Fucking pervert.”

“Good, you do understand the code then,” Jiwon says, rinsing the blood off of himself. 

“Of course,” Junhoe replies, turning the water off. He climbs out of the tub, and towels off.

“You’re still hard,” Jiwon says with a laugh.

Junhoe waggles his eyebrows. “Gonna do something about it?”

Jiwon steps forward, backing Junhoe against the counter. His eyes glow red in the way that sends a shiver down Junhoe’s spine. “Oh, I could do anything I want to you, and you’d let me wouldn’t you?”

Junhoe nods, eyes never leaving Jiwon’s. “You’d do anything for me wouldn’t you?”

“Satan yes,” Junhoe groans as Jiwon tips his head back, mouth moving to suck on Junhoe’s neck. He nips, hard, teeth sinking into tender flesh. Junhoe whines, his body jerking at the pain. He moans as Bobby does it again on the other side. 

“I’m going to take you here, bend you right over this sink and fuck you, just because I can,” he growls and Junhoe whimpers in agreement, before he’s being manhandled and turned around. He braces himself on the counter as Jiwon licks and sucks his way down Junhoe’s back, scratching lines with his fingernails. 

Junhoe hears a cap snick open, and moments later there’s a finger pressing roughly into him. He groans, spreading his legs farther, to accommodate Jiwon.

“Please,” he begs as Jiwon begins to move.

“Tell me what you want,” Jiwon teases. 

“More. I need more,” he whines. Jiwon teases him more, pulling his fingers out and running two fingers around his rim, making Junhoe shiver. “Jiwon,” he whines, just before Jiwon shoves both fingers in deep, roughly working him open. Junhoe’s legs shake, and Jiwon strokes his hip, oddly soothing and at far lengths from the rough way he’s fingering the man. 

Junhoe is leaning his full weight on the counter, holding onto the sides for dear life as Jiwon scissors him.

“One more,” Jiwon warns, moments before he’s pushing the third finger in. Junhoe chokes on a cry, breathlessly begging for more. He cries out when Jiwon pulls his fingers out, and slicks up his dick. He lines himself up, and pushes in, his front pressed against Junhoe’s back. He sets a brutal pace, pushing the air from Junhoe’s lungs, so all he can do is gasp for air and from pleasure. 

Jiwon pulls Junhoe back up so he’s mostly standing, and wraps a hand lightly around his throat. Junhoe’s moans return in full force as he gets air in his lungs. His knuckles are white where he grips the counter. He tilts his head up, seeing himself in the mirror, looking fucked out. And Jiwon behind him, looking every bit the King of Hell he is, eyes red and glowing as he fucks Junhoe. Junhoe whines, fucking back against Jiwon.

He’s reaching his edge, and Jiwon can feel him beginning to clench. He squeezes harder, choking off Junhoe mid whine. Junhoe thrashes, caught between the need to get off and the need to breathe.

His need for pleasure wins, and he comes, spilling over himself and the marble counter. He gasps as Jiwon releases his hold, oxygen flooding his lungs, tears prick in his eyes.

Jiwon isn’t far behind him, spilling into Junhoe. He sinks his teeth into Junhoe’s shoulder, stilling as he comes. He pulls out and pulls Junhoe’s back against his chest. Junhoe realizes his own wings have popped out. Jiwon threads his fingers through the black feathers, stroking them, an act so intimate it makes Junhoe’s heart clench.

“My angel,” Jiwon whispers. “My beautiful fallen angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, this is it. It's really over. I'm feeling a bit emotional I'll be honest. There were times I thought of deleting this fic or letting rot and never finish it, but I was pushed and encouraged by so many people who I'm so thankful to, especially Skye and Renata who have done so much for me and this fic. 
> 
> I hope you all find something in this fic.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for joining me on my newest adventure! This fic is much darker than my usual and trigger warnings will be found in the bottoms notes of each chapter, and I will add more tags as the fic progresses. 
> 
> Chapters will be posted Sunday evenings 
> 
> Thank you to Elliot, Sur, and Renata for reading and encouraging me while I write and for fueling me with their tears!
> 
> As always, find me on Twitter @noahindaeyo!


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